Every Berry Has A Silver Lining
by quinntubbington
Summary: Rachel Berry is on the road to recovery and planning her perfect life, but what if the enigmatic and explosive Quinn Fabray is a speed bump that makes her want to change her destination? A little crazy can go a long way...
1. Rachel not so Berry

Dear readers,

Firstly, I'd like to reassure you this is not a Finchel FF at all (just in case you were worried). And secondly, well - enjoy. This is loosely based on the film Silver Linings Playbook and is an AU Faberry fanfiction. If you have seen the film then I can tell you that Rachel's story line will be loosely following Pat's (Bradley Cooper's) Story line whilst Quinn will be taking after the lovely Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence). The chapters will be getting longer as the plot develops, and I hope to be updating regularly. Reviews are very much welcomed, and as mentioned - enjoyed.

-N x

* * *

"So what did you have for breakfast?"

"Cereal."

"What kind?"

Rachel dragged in a long hollow breath as her eyes traced from her seat to Doctor Brown's. She met his grey eyes with an empty stare and a roll of her shoulders. It seemed like the questions had started to become more mundane the longer she stayed at this place, sometimes Rachel wondered if her dads were getting their moneys worth. None the less she knew how to play by the rules, you sort of pick that up after a year.

"Lucky charms and soya milk" The brunette answered in defeat, her eyes catching sight of the clock hung above the doctors head "It's almost ten" she prompted as calmly as she could even though her insides were bursting with excitement, an emotion that had long vacated Rachel's soul and only made an appearance on Mondays when the cafeteria served her favorite type of broccoli. It was hard for her to keep her emotions balanced, especially since they seemed like a caged beast, fighting her every desire to keep them - _normal_. It seemed that when she didn't show enough emotions they'd up her medicine dosage, and well the last time she showed too much emotion - she didn't want to think about that.

"I know" the large man with bushy eyebrows softly replied. It was the same tone he used in almost every conversation with Rachel since last December, no matter how heated the topic was. It didn't matter whether he was talking to her about her favorite animals or what had happened that winter night, every word was pronounced with the same professional stillness to it that Rachel envied. If she could have even half his control she wouldn't be here in the first place. She felt her heart grow a little anxious as each tick of the clock pounded louder and louder. 10.15 was when her dad would be outside, 10.15 and not a minute later. She had to pack her bag and all the things in her room then maybe she should leave time for a shower since she wanted to look her best for when she came back. She didn't know when Finn would be there, maybe he would be greeting her at her house or maybe he was busy since that's what he was like, but either way she wanted to make sure her hair was nice just in case. You never know what life can throw at you.

"Rachel?"

"Huh?"

"I said you're free to go now dear, don't forget to get your dad to sign the paperwork now-" the crimson cheeked man hardly had time to finish his sentence before the girl was half way out of the door and fleeing her way through the corridor. The sound of her feet pattering on the linoleum floor chorused through the hallway as she triumphantly made her way into her room and began the ordeal of packing everything in under ten minutes, alas saying goodbye to the opportunity of a shower. The smell of her washing detergent wafted through the air as she piled her clothes into her suitcase and ripped off the picture of her and her dads from the pin-board on her wall. They said she wasn't allowed one of her and Finn, but it didn't matter anyways. They were getting back together, they'd have plenty of pictures to come. That familiar surge of excitement buzzed through her heart at the thought of him. Zipping her suitcase firmly shut Rachel tugged it from her bed and onto the floors that she'd never walk upon again. Shutting the door behind her she said one last goodbye to the room that held all her secrets and took a step forward to her new life, or more accurately, her successful return to her old one. Lima was getting their star back, or maybe just their Berry, since Rachel didn't use that metaphor (or any metaphor) anymore. Metaphors were stupid, along with that other thing she no longer talked about. She couldn't help but smile as she made her way through the lobby, even if she was in the presence of other patients. It was the exact moment when you know you've aced that test, and even though everyone around you is crying at their future failure you can't help but smile at your success. And it wasn't like Rachel didn't work for this, she'd attended every doctors meeting and every group session and every trivial training and art class that the centre could force her into. She was even growing out her bangs because Finn always used to say how he'd like it if she grew out her bangs.

That wasn't the only thing that Rachel was doing, actually maybe it was the smallest. Rachel Berry was becoming everything that Finn ever wanted her to be, or at least she was trying. This was all part of her five step plan - five steps that would inevitably and rationally lead her to becoming Finn's girlfriend (again). And potentially, even becoming his wife (sort of again). Finn had loved her once, and this time it was her chance to make him love her again, and maybe then he would finally forget about the small incident that happened between them last year. Sure Rachel might have tried to kill him, but he was still alive, wasn't he? Every relationship has hiccups, and more importantly it was out of love. Finn would learn to forgive Rachel, he had to, it was the best for the both of them. Along with the bangs Rachel had began learning to play the drums, or at least learn a little beat - it was hard to learn the drums in a mental facility since all she could acquire was empty tubs of economical mayo. But with the use of two HB2 pencils the brunette was sure that she had a mean beat to her. She'd also finished the entire series of Two and Half Men. She laughed at every joke (even the ones she didn't understand, which was most of them) and she learnt to familiarize herself with the characters. She even made a flowchart. If she could bear to hear the sound of anyone singing, perhaps she'd have tried to listen to the same music as him, but that was something Rachel didn't speak about anymore. She did however manage to get comfortable around dogs, something she knew was very important to Finn, and even learnt the ins and out of football. She was perfectly made for him, and they were going to live happily ever after.

"Is that my little girl?" LeRoys smile shone bright behind tired eyes as he walked through the visitors entrance of the centre. He hadn't gotten a goodnights rest for nearly a year now, but at least his eyes managed to look a little more alive today - the day that the time that Rachel legally had to spend at the centre under the local Lima courts order ceased. His daughter was a free woman again, sure she had to attend weekly meetings with her doctor, but at least she would be home and on the road to recovery. LeRoy just didn't know that his version and his daughters version were two very different roads. Wrapping her up in his arms he helped her with her bags before being stopped by Rachel's anxious tone.

"I'm not little, I've actually put on some weight. See my hips are fuller and I swear I'm a little taller" She pointed out proudly, they were all pointers that Finn had previously and subtly mentioned on. Pointers that Rachel had tried long and hard to fix in order for things to get better when she got out. LeRoy hesitated but then gave into a warm smile as he placed a kiss on the top of his daughters head.

"You're perfect" He reminded her and she smiled gently. She hoped to hear the same words from Finn pretty soon.

"You've got to film the forms first"

"What forms?"

"The forms that you're taking me out, dad." Her brown eyes nodded nervously, there wasn't anyway that she was messing things up now, not when she was so close to the exit. With one swift swoop she made her way to the secretaries desk and retracted the pile of forms that had a stick note with "Mr Berry(s)" on it. She flipped to the page where she knew he had to sign and laid the paper down on the coffee table next to them for him to put his signature on. Her heart grew a little anxious as she watched his every move.

"They saying their personal advice is not to let you out yet?" LeRoy asked in that familiar serious tone he used when asking Rachel what she wanted for dinner. Meal times were big in the Berry household, and Rachel's stomach grumbled at the very thought of one. Hesitantly she nodded before wincing down at the floor. She was furious that Doctor Brown would write that, but it wasn't any news for her. She knew all too well that the centre thought it would be for her best interest to stay longer. But how much is a little longer? She couldn't waste another moment in here, not when Finn could be out there forgetting about her. Rachel tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear proudly, the reassurance that her bangs were growing out offering some comfort to her anxious disposition. LeRoys hand stopped writing and Rachel's heart stopped beating. He looked up with a curious expression and Rachel tensed herself as she waited for whatever could come.

"And what do you - what do you think Rachel? You think you ready to go?" He motioned with his hand which was now tightly holding a pen to make his point, a gesture that Rachel was very fond of. She nodded profusely, hoping her certainty would be clear in her eyes.

"More ready than I've ever been, I promise dad"

"And what about..." his pace slowed down for a moment, the sentence on the tip of his tongue as he decided whether or not to say it. "What about the singing?"

Rachel's body winced once more, though she tried her best to hide it. She practiced the steps she'd taught herself to do when the question would come up, which she presumed it definitely would. One deep breath in, one deep breath out, and then she focused on the image of her and Finn. The answer to this question was simple in her mind. Singing was evil, it was the curse that burdened and destroyed her life. It was the worst thing that ever happened to her, it was the source of all pain and misery in her existence. Singing had caused her to choke in her audition to NYADA. Singing had caused her to nearly kill (on purpose) her boyfriend who had proposed to her moments before she went on stage and ruined her stamina. Singing was the reason why she'd spent the last year of her life in a nuthouse alone when she could've been happily married to the man of her dreams. She would never speak of singing again. She would never hear anyone sing again. And she would never again herself sing a single note.

"It's fine" She pushed through clench teeth, her eyes staring at the floor. _Think of Finn. You can do this Rachel. Convince him that you're okay - which you are. Convince him and then you can go see Finn when you're home. Then he'll love you again. Just let him take you home_. "I mean it's not something I'm really into right now, but it's okay"

"Good" LeRoy said with the first earnest smile that had appeared on his lips since twelve months ago. "Good."

"So we can go?"

"After you, princess"

LeRoy held the door open to the outside world for Rachel, but it wasn't just the outside world. It was the same world that Finn Hudson was in. And this time, she was going to get him back.


	2. Home Sweet Home

"It still smells the same" Rachel softly said as her fingers pressed against the hard oak of the front door. The Berry household definitely did have the same distinct and welcoming smell to it - it was the sort of home that left a pleasant trace on your clothes long after you've left. The scents of crushed wood and warm vanilla all seemed to be at perfect harmony with the delicate tones of personal things such as Rachel's old perfume or the Berry's favorite brand of coffee. Either way, it was a pleasant change from the centre. In contrast the delicious Berry household her old 'home' smelt strongly of detergent and cheap plastic, which if you were wondering were a terrible combination. But the smell wasn't the only thing that Rachel had missed, the very thought of having her own room be private once again made the brunette smile from ear to ear. The thing at the centre was that privacy wasn't a luxury you could afford. Even at night time they'd often have checks to make sure you were still in bed, and even though these checks got less frequent the longer (and more well behaved) you'd been there, they still managed to wake Rachel up from every dream she'd managed to have at that place. The matrons would also watch them shave their legs since sharp objects were of course a big no, which was probably why there were so many furry legged woman around the wards. She didn't feel like she belonged there, deep down she felt as if she was better than everyone there - or at least more normal. One time she confessed this thought to Doctor Brown, his reply was more disheartening than anything Rachel had heard for a long time. He asked her if she knew Louise, and of course Rachel said yes. Everyone knew Louise, she often dappled from the centre to more severe mental facilities, and the fact that she was a compulsive liar made every conversation with her more interesting. Doctor Brown told Rachel that he'd just spoken to Louise, and Louise had said the exact same thing along with all the girls that he'd seen in his entire life. Everyone thinks they're more normal than the others. But what exactly was normal?

Driving through her old neighbourhood was surreal, it seemed that practically nothing had changed since she'd gone. The small town of Lima was a constant in Rachel Berry's ever changing life. It was eternal and trapped in a time warp of its own. The lawns were still perfectly trimmed and a vibrant lucious green, even in the dim December. The houses stills tood tall and empty with their picket fences and petunia patches, and the neighbors that inhabited each and every building block still smiled on the outside no matter how depressed they were on the inside. After he experience Rachel felt like reporting a number of her neighbors to the facility. There was a perfection to her road that she couldn't quite understand, however Rachel knew that all the roads in Lima were just like this one. They were all clones. She imagined a road not too far from this one with the same Rachel in it too. Maybe that Rachel was happy and with a boy just like Finn. The brunette took a step inside her house as she promised herself that soon that would be her too. Soon her and Finn would have a house just like this.

"Where's daddy?" Rachel asked curiously as her eyes inspected the walls of her old home. It was as if she never left. The house still had that cosy feeling and the furniture was still a soft caramel. The flower arrangement at the entrance of the house remained full with extravagant flowers, and portraits of Rachel still hung proudly on the walls. It was comforting to know that they hadn't taken them down, but disturbing since Rachel could name every single one that had been. Coincidently they were the ones that were related to singing, she wasn't sure whether she should be happy by her fathers consideration, or disappointed by this change to the norm. She dreaded to think what they'd turned the basement trophy room into, an unnerving shudder crept its way down the length of her spine.

"He's at the grocery store – he said something about cooking you your favorite meal when you get home, how does that sound Rach?" Her dad shut the door behind her and helped the suitcase inside, it hit the wooden floors with a hollow thump of protest.

"It sounds perfect" Rachel nodded in reply before swiftly reaching for the handle of her suitcase "do you mind if I go unpack and maybe take a shower or something?"

"No, of course not. Need help with the suitcase?"

"I'll be fine" the brunette replied before trudging the case up the first set of stairs, then taking the second flight up to the attic – which was home to her bedroom for the last ten years. It wasn't easy getting the heavy bag up the narrow stairs, but none the less it was something that Rachel felt as if she should do by herself. Eventually with a mild strain in her back and a slight pain in her chest she caught her breath as she stood in the middle of her room, the petal pink colored walls rekindling a sense of youth in her heart. The room had wooden beams that had mostly been painted over with the same candy pink, except for them it seemed to be just a normal square room. On the right she had her bed, the white sheets were freshly made with an auray of pillows that complimented the cream fluffy carpet. Her bed side table still had her favorite lamp on it along with an alarm clock and a book that she'd forggoten to finish. Slippers lay obediantly by her vanity table on the left, whilst the book shelf and wardrobe preoccupied the rest of the space, along with a small yet comfortable armchair. She wheeled her suitcase by the foot of her wardrobe before slowly making her way over to the window. The room was in a light honey glow from the morning sun that seeped through the light pale curtains, but as Rachel slid them apart she was met with the a very different view of the street. The houses that once looked all the same seemed to stand boldly appart when it came to their roofs. The tips of the trees brushed across the horizon in an even pantern. It was perfect up here. She stood on her tiptoes as she saw a familiar car pull into her driveway, her chest tightened in a fleeting sense of happiness as she recognized Hiram's car. She rushed to the stairs with a great sense of urgency, the only thing stoping her was her pinboard that hung on the wall.

The gaps on the board where the empty cork was visible were almost painful. Only three photos remained on the board - the board that once was over flowing with little pieces that all together made Rachel Berry - three pieces. One was a family shot from a Christmas card long ago, Hiram and LeRoy were side-by-side in front of a cliche snowing background in matching red christmas jumpers whilst Rachel sat elegantly in front of them which a puppy that they let her borrow for the shoot. She could never have a dog, her dads claimed they were allergic but she knew that there was more to it, maybe it was the mess, or maybe everyone was too busy. But Rachel wasn't busy anymore, she wasn't going to New York anymore, she would stay in Lima for the rest of her life with Finn and she could have as many dogs as she wanted to. Her fingers brushed across the photo before trailing back down as her eyes caught another one. This one was from Rachel's year book two years ago; her hair lay smoothly in light curls on top of her emerald green jumper as she gave the photographer her classic "over the shoulder smolder". She couldn't help but wonder if she'd regain that spark in her eyes one day, maybe Finn could give her that back. The last one was a photo of her and Santana after they won Nationals. Even though the girl was a cheerio, which is what they called cheerleaders, Rachel and her remained to be close friends throughout high school. The only other cheerleader she knew was Brittany, who also happened to be Santana's girlfriend. Rachel wondered what Santana's life was like now, whether she was happy and successful, whether she was still with the love of her life. But Rachel couldn't help but focus on the gaps, the same gaps that she felt in herself. Where her dads had ripped off anything Finn ormusic related there were gaping wounds of emptiness that Rachel could not only see right in front of her but also feel in her heart. Her throat grew dry whilst the anxious thoughts spirled in her mind. She squeezed her eyes firmly shut before regaining her stance and making her way down the stairs. As Rachel was just about to go down to the ground floor and meet her other father the tone of his voice made her freeze right where she was.

"The right thing for who? Her? Or you?" Hiram hissed at his husband. Rachel felt her heart twist in a knot as she tried to convince herself her dad couldn't possibly be unhappy about her return, he was out getting groceries for her, wasn't he? Curioisty got the better of her and Rachel slowly got on her kneels and crawled to a vantage point where she couldn't be seen whilst being able to hear perfectly. She took a hollow silent breath as she waited for him to continue.

"The court said a year, it's been a year Hiram, legally-"

"And what do the doctors say, huh? Did they say she was fixed? Because the last time I visited she didn't seem fixed. She still doesn't talk about singing does she? Can the court fix that?"

"This is the best it's going to get, she'll be better here"

"She wont get normal here" Hiram added and Rachel winced as the word injured her like a spear. Clearly Hiram was not only unaware of Rachel's arrival back at home, but also disapproving of it.

"Normal? What's normal then? What about every time you watch a game? The remotes have to be a certain way, you have to wear your jersey, and you prefer Rachel to be with you. You think that's normal?" the voices were getting louder and louder and Rachel felt like a little girl again. But this time they weren't argueing about what show to watch, they were argueing about her. This was her fault. "She's our little girl, and it's time we started helping her ourselves"

Before letting herself hear another word Rachel ran to her steps and sprinted up them as fast as she could, not letting herself breathe for even a moment. Flinging her wardrobe open she grabbed the first pair of tracksuits she could find and wriggled her way into the towel feel trousers. Pulling over an old jersey she slipped her feet into her old trainers before returning down the stairs at the exact same speed. She could make it out of the door without having to speak to her dad if she went straight ahead, but she knew that she would regret the decision of not taking a water bottle later. With a great sense of defeat Rachel turned to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards for her plastic bottle, unfortunately catching the attention of both her dads that had now migrated to the living room.

"Rachel?" Hiram's voice asked but she didn't turn around, instead she just searched with more determination until finally her hand clasped the pink plastic bottle she was looking for. Successfully she began filling the bottle with tap water, still not looking back at her dad that was slowly approaching.

"Not even a hug?" He said in a saddened voice, his hand making their way to Rachel's cheek for his usually loving pinch. She flinched away and concentrated at the drilling of the water into the plastic.

"Can't now, gotta run." She answered monotonously. Finally the bottle was filled and she tightened the cap with a feeling of achievement. "Bye dads" Rachel added blankly before sprinting her way out of the house only stopping to get the fleece that hung at the end of the bannister. Before she knew it Rachel was met with the sharp slicing winter air of Lima, Ohio. Her feet began to pad against the frozen tarmac in that familiar rythm and she couldn't help but feel more in control than she had that entire year. It was her decision how fast she went, it was her decision where to go (even though she already decided to take her favorite route), and it was her decision not to return home until her heart was too tired to feel anything.

With the cold december wind punching into her face and breathing through her hair it was easy to lose track of the time. The houses began to pass in a smooth blur, the neighbours that actually said hi were almost unrecognzible, even though Rachel was sure that the first thing they would do is call their friends and tell them she was back. She would be the biggest news of the town, again. She ran through the playground and through the basketball courts, flying past breadstix and straight to the highschool. Rachel let herself take a small breather as she got to McKinley high, the familiar bleak yellow brick starinig back as her sweat drained skin stung in the cold air. Taking the moment in she looked around to the football court and recalled with a fond smile all the times that Finn had played on that very field. She remembered how she used to chear for him in the bleachers, how proud he would look when he saw her sitting there wearing his jersey. They were perfect, they would be perfect. She knew that all she had to do was see him and speak to him, then everything would be back to normal. He loved her once, he said so himself, so what was stopping him from doing it again? There were problems though, including the restraining order. She didn't know where Finn lived either since she was told he moved houses. So what if she had to hunt him down and break a few laws to find him? True love can be hard, or so she liked to remind herself. But it was worth it, the moment he would see the "new Rachel', the improved Rachel, it would all be worth it. He would understand everything if she just got the chance to make her point. She regretted her actions, sure maybe not at the time and not until six months later, but she knew now that she reacted in the wrong way. Doctor Brown told her not to think about things like that so for once she decided to listen to his advice, mostly because she was too emotionally exhausted to handle it right now.

As Rachel made her way back through her familiar route she almost ran straight past Santana Lopez and her arms full of grocery bags.

"Rachel?" The girl called behind the paper bags, causing Rachel to stop right in her tracks. As she slowed her pace and turned around she realised that though the girl was definitely Santana, she was also definitely not a girl. The person in front of her was all woman, though perhaps not as womanly as she could be. Santana Lopez was wearing simple jeans and a red jersey top, her face looked about ten years older than the last time Rachel had saw her and the girls once lucious brown locks seemed to cling to her face with a mom-bun. Slowly Rachel made her way to her old friend and managed a smile, quickly helping her with her bags. However Santana seemed to be putting them back into the boot of her family SUV for the moment so Rachel did the same. She couldn't exactly pinpoint what was different about the girl, or maybe she couldn't see what was the same. It didn't fit, the hair style, the family car, the large house - didn't Santana want to go make it big? And if not big did she really want a picket fence? Rachel would've tried to conceal her emotions, but unfortunately after spending a year in a mental centre she sort of lost her ability to interact with anyone non-related or non-crazy. Doctor Brown did not fit into either of those categories Rachel thought.

"You're looking so good" The lantina commented, her eyes scanning the little brunette in one go. Rachel didn't feel the need to disagree, she was proud of her appearance and she had to be – confidnece in her appearance was another pointer that Finn had once mentioned. It usually followed after a jealous comment, and if Rachel was ever going to get him back she knew that she couldn't allow her to do that anymore.

"Thank you" Rachel said with a nod, talking to her was harder than she thought. She didn't know what to say and she hated the fact that her social skills had seemed to desert her "So..you live here now?" she managed to push out, looking from the humble yet family home to Santana who smiled proudly in reply.

"Yeah, right after High School. It's nice, isn't it? Carl's family is rich, did you know they own Breadstix?" Rachel shook her head slightly in reply and Santana continued, a sense of justification in each and every word she produced "Well they're branching out anyways, but Carl wants to stay here. We married last June" She projected her hand for Rachel to examine the ring. She tried to look happy for her, but the emotion was smothered by her curious expression, this wasn't adding up. How did Santana manage to get married so quickly, especially to a person who wasn't Brittany - and who even was Carl? Asking about Brittany was on the tip of Rachels tongue, but she was still too curious about her previous question to move onto that one.

"What's Carl like?"

"He's fantastic Rach - but enough about me - how have you been?" Santana placed a comforting hand onto Rachel's shoulder, it felt heavy and oddly unbalanced but Rachel didn't want to shrug it off anytime soon.

"Ok"

"So you're back for good?" Rachel nodded with a half smile in reply to Santana's question. The girl slipped her hand of Rachel's comment and the awkwardness was vivid enough for even Rachel to read. "Look how about you come to dinner, I'd love you to meet Carl and his sister's coming over too. It'd be a nice chance to catch up."

"You want _me_ to come to _your_ house for dinner?"

"Of course, we have a lot to talk about, and I missed you Rach. As long as you're up for it of course"

"I am"

"Tomorrow at seven, is that good for you?"

"Seven it is, thanks San" Rachel mumbled humbly, though it was nice to know that Santana still wanted something to do with her, the very idea of the dinner sent her into havoc. Meeting Carl didn't seem like a lot of fun, neither did hearing about how Santana unknowingly ruined her life. Or of course having to meet this new sister of his who was probably going to perky and peachy and ask too many questions. Rachel wanted to run home and soak in the bath for at least three hours, but somehow Santana's gaze still lingered. Before Rachel could brace herself Santana was slowly coming towards her, her arms engulfing her into an awkward hug that was definitely one sided on the Latina's side. Rachel stayed stagnantly still as she waited for Santana to let go, her eyes squeezing shut as she wished this whole ritual of best friends would end. She wanted Santana to say it out loud, she wanted her to not beat around the bush when it came to what happened. The fact was, Rachel was actually only going for one reason and one reason only - Santana was her last remaining tie to Finn Hudson. If she could get San on her side she was one step closer to getting back with the boy of her dreams.

"I'll see you tomorrow Rach"

"See you tomorrow"

As Rachel began to pick up tempo and get herself back into a steady jog another question popped into her mind. Turning around and looking five houses behind her she called Santana's name, the girl turned around with her bags full of food and responded with an expression that meant she had her full attention.

"By the way, what's his sister called?" Rachel yelled, still running on the spot as to not loose her stamina.

"Quinn, Quinn Fabray"


	3. Struck by Lightning

"Definitely not this" Rachel sighed as she flung the crimson blouse onto the bed to join the already massive pile of clothes that didn't seem to make the cut. Ever since yesterdays bump in with Santana, Rachel couldn't stop obsessing over the dinner. The fact was that this was her chance to not only show Santana that she was better now, but also get to know how Finn was doing. She wouldn't ask Santana to tell Finn how well she was doing until the end of the night, that way the girl would have proof that Rachel was definitely much improved. Rachel knew that Santana had to tell Finn, there was just no other way to make contact with him. She also presumed, and mostly hoped, that her friend would do this favour to her. But the problem was that if she didn't look nice for tonight then she knew Santana would have trouble describing Rachel's fantastic new appearance to him. Santana had to witness Rachel in all her glory, not in her old sweatpants. Maybe Carl knew Finn too, maybe he could support Santana's statement. The possibilities seemed endless whilst the outfit choices were limited, it was strange but during her time at the centre she felt like she had so many clothes left at home – looking through her wardrobe now she realised that maybe that was just her imagination, something that had been given a lot of time to grow during her road to recovery. Rachel made a mental note to go shopping before her big reveal to Finn Hudson. She would have to buy the perfect clothes that would show just how perfect she was for him. Nothing too outrages or provocative, as she knew that wasn't his style (a flashback of a grease related costume crawled into her mind), and maybe not too boyish since he was still a guy so he'd appreciate her feminine wiles. Perhaps Santana would come along and help her, since it seemed she was doing just fine in the guy department. Rachel felt a small sad feeling grow in the depth of her chest as she thought about Santana and Brittany. Even though Rachel personally knew that Finn was the only one for her, she couldn't imagine what it would be like to fall in love with your best friend only to lose her. And even though Santana _seemed _happy, could you really be happy without your soul mate? Pushing the thought aside she moved back into the darkness of her wardrobe and reached for a conservative yet pretty navy dress, it would have to do. Sliding into the soft material she straightened her hair a little and applied a reasonable amount of make-up. The question of whether she should wear tights or not played in her mind as she heard a tap on her door, hesitantly she replied with a polite come in.

"I saw your lights were on" Hiram said in a guilt filled voice, slowly walking through the room and towards the bed, perching next to the clothes pile. "So that dinner's tonight?"

"Yep, it's an hour or something but I thought I'd get ready just in case. I don't want to be late" Rachel muttered whilst picking through her jewellery. She'd already mentally established which earrings she wanted to wear, but rummaging through the box allowed her to avoid eye contact with her dad. She stumbled onto a locket and slowly retrieved it, pressing her tips of the fingers into the engraved part. It was the locket Finn had given to her.

"I'm sorry Rach" Hiram began hastily as he recognized the necklace, standing up and reaching for it as Rachel shut it clasped in her hands, his expression dropped and a sympathetic sigh filtered through his lungs. "Rachel" he said, offering his hand in indication for her to give him the necklace "Baby girl come on, you know the rules. We tried to get rid of most of the stuff, so please don't make this harder than it has to be"

"Make what harder? I'm not _crazy, _I'm in love. I wasn't well and, and-" she faltered over what words to use, unable to form the sentence under the pressure of his judging eyes. She squeezed the locket tighter in her grip "And as soon as he sees how much better I am he'll love me too. Again" Rachel added a confident series of nods even though her heart was pounding into her ribcage. Another sigh emerged from her dad.

"You're not going to see him"

"Says who?"

"The official state law of Ohio, that's who"

"But you don't know whether or not he wants to see me, that's not fair. Maybe he does want to see me, maybe he made a mistake and doesn't want the restraining order anymore..." the locket began to grow heavier and heavier in Rachel's touch, almost as if it was burning through her skin like acid. Her dads hand remained there and part of her wanted to throw the stupid necklace into it, the other wouldn't back down from the fight.

"If he wanted to remove it, he could"

"Maybe he has?"

"He hasn't"

"Well maybe he's going to" a breath started to quicken as the thoughts flew her mind. Why was her dad doing this to her? Why was he winding her up so much? Did he want her to be miserable for the rest of her life? Did he really not understand that Finn Hudson was her last chance at happiness? Rachel bolted up and staggered to the opposite side of the room from her dad, whose expression just continued to increase with worry.

"He's not going to Rachel" He finally belted out at a louder volume than Rachel had ever heard him scream. Suddenly it was as if all emotions of anger had been washed away with the power of a huge forceful wave. "He's not going to because you tried to kill him" Hiram finished, his tone no longer angry but almost sad. Rachel stuffed the locket into her pocket and grabbed her coat that lay on her vanity table as she rushed out of the room and down to the bottom floor of her house. She didn't know what had made her father so bitter during her time away, but whatever it was had to change. She couldn't go on living in a house that was against her, _everyone _was against her. The world didn't want her to be happy which meant she constantly had to fight. She had to fight with everyone, fight with the world, fight with herself. She was so tired of fighting, Rachel just wished a lightning bolt would strike through her life and make all her thoughts clear and make her feel alive. Little did she know she'd meet that lightning bolt over dinner.

With a triumphant slam of the door and the weight of her father's car keys in her pocket Rachel ran to the family car and jammed them into the ignition, setting the vehicle into a mighty roar. She wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen during this dinner, but right now anything was better than staying in that house. Maybe even the recovery centre. Rachel caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and felt a dull sigh as those familiar brown eyes glared back at her. Manic and nervous the chance of her coming off even a little close to normal tonight seemed slim. Before she drove out of the families parking spot she leaned back and got her bag which she'd left in the car. Rummaging fiercely through the junk of the cold leather she finally got the case of her medication and professionally unscrewed the lid under timed conditions. Two for happiness, that was the key. Even though she protested at taking them in the centre, to Doctor Browns unhappiness, and even told her dads that she didn't plan to continue the dosage back at home – she knew if there was ever a time to take her meds, it was now. What exactly they did was a whole other question, however and unfortunately, they did make Rachel feel a little more normal than usual, which was as close to actual normal she felt she would ever get. She presumed she'd need a IV drip of the stuff when she was back together with Finn, or perhaps she'd just take them in secret. As her thoughts swarmed with ideas on how their new relationship would be, Rachel calmly and efficiently made her way to the house she passed yesterday – a house she'd soon enough start calling Santana's. It seemed too unfamiliar and odd to name it that just yet, and more importantly, it just seemed so un-Santana. It was a family home, and though decent, it seemed like it was too much of a family home for her. Rachel always pictured Santana living in some lavish modern complex in LA or something, but perhaps this was the path that the girl had chosen to follow, and Rachel would have to respect that. Maybe Carl was nice, maybe Santana was actually happy, those were two questions that Rachel did want to find out – as well as what that Quinn girl was like. To say the truth Rachel was a little nervous about meeting new people and more nervous about what Santana had already told her sister in-law. She imagined how judgmental Quinn could be, and the nerves started to kick in as Rachel began to imagine each and every awkward situation that could occur. There was also a high chance that Quinn could have already heard of Rachel through other ways, like the paper or the internet – "crazed high school student attempts to run over her jock boyfriend" seemed to be a popular title for the more local sources. Rachel added convincing Quinn she was normal to the list. Rachel would be the most normal person imaginable. Completely ordinary and maybe a little boring, but none the less normal. Before she knew it Rachel had parked in the spare driving space of the foreign house and even though she wasn't sure if it was the internal pep talk or the medication, but she definitely felt a lot calmer. Deciding to leave her bag inside the car she gallantly hopped out and made her way to the pink front door, perhaps there was more of Santana in the house than she thought. It only took two knocks for the Latina to hustle her way to the front door.

"Rachel! You came, thank god" the brunette girl exclaimed as she pulled Rachel in for another forced hug. Tonight Santana was wearing a plain red dress, but at least there was a little more shape to it than yesterday. Her hair was down too which was a familiar site, though the smell of home cooking from behind her definitely wasn't. Santana was many things, but housewife didn't fall into the category of any of them.

"I'm still invited right?"

"Of course, of course. Come in, it's freezing outside" Santana ordered as she slid the door close and once again engulfed Rachel into a smothering hug. Rachel wondered whether Santana happened to be on the same medication as herself. Looking around the house she was shocked to see how perfect it was. All the furniture was dainty and everything seemed to be ordered and decorated with exquisite details. Photos of Santana and a pale blonde haired man hung proudly on the walls, and a bunch of roses bloomed on the entrance table. Santana noticed Rachel's gaze and that familiar smile Rachel noticed yesterday returned to the other girls lips "Isn't he gorgeous. Our first date was actually at breadstix, and he didn't even have to pay" Santana's cheeks blossomed with a artistic glow. Unfortunately her expression changed very quickly as Rachel blurted out the one thing she was going to try to not say the entire night. _What about Brittany_ was a sentence that didn't go too well with Santana, but unfortunately for Rachel ever since she got back she sort of lost the ability to filter her thoughts from her words. She also picked up a number of fidgeting habits.

"Brittany and I broke up a while back Rachel, I don't think there's anything more to say about that" Santana replied in a practice manner before linking her arm through Rachel's "Come through to the kitchen, I know you're a vegan so I cooked veggie lasagne" Santana said as she lead the girl through the similar rooms and into the kitchen which held a dining table beautifully set for four.

"Is Quinn still coming?" Rachel asked, perhaps to Santana's dislike. In all frankness Rachel's interest in Frank had subsided pretty quickly. The photo said it all. The blonde hair and blue eyed man was clearly just a way for Santana's bank account to prosper whilst still remaining the big fish in the small pool that was Lima Ohio. It was the easier way out, since who wants to fight and struggle for love? Santana leaned back onto the kitchen counter after checking some sort of soup that was stirring on the stove, Rachel however remained firmly still in the centre of the room. Her social skills had definitely declined whilst being in a place full of loony people.

"Yes. Yes she is" Santana replied in a way that made Rachel question whether an 'unfortunately' should've been added at the end of the sentence. However the girls face remained perfectly still as she said it, and Rachel made a mental note about the art of lying. It seemed she would have to build up her social skills from scratch. Even though Rachel thought that would be that when it came to Quinn, Santana inhaled deeply and continued. "They're not close, Carl and her. Actually no ones close with her Rachel, and I'm sorry you have to meet her, it's just Carl insisted. Ever since her husband Sammy died she's gotten worse, even though she was totally crazy to begin with-" Santana halted and grew pale, her face grimacing apologetically "Sorry I didn't mean it like that. It's just she's uncontrollable Rach, I know I got married young but she got married at _sixteen_. Do you remember us at sixteen?" She laughed mockingly before pinching a cucumber slice from her crudités arrangement. "Yeah I do, it was only three years ago..." Rachel replied unsurely to which Santana only rolled her eyes to.

"Well anyways, ever since Sammy died she's even weirder, so her family's trying to support her and everything – which means I have to host meals every fricking other week. Oh and by the way, don't ask how Sammy died."

"Why?"

Before Santana could answer a new person had entered the room, Rachel recognized him to be the infamous Carl and politely smiled to his friendly greeting and then looked away as he placed a slobbery kiss on Santana's face. Rachel ignored Santana's expression during the kiss, even though it was undeniable one of disgust, luckily Carl didn't see.

"So you must be Rachel Berry, Santana's told me all about you" the guy said whilst wrapping his arm tightly around Santana (to her discomfort). It was obvious that he was older than her, maybe in his mid-twenties or something, and to say the least his face wasn't exactly disfigured with intelligence. She got the sense that he was a douchebag, but she took a note from Santana's skills at lying and managed to put on a neutral face.

"Did she tell you about Finn?" Rachel asked blankly and Santana looked away in discomfort. Clearly Carl was taken back by Rachel's bluntness but maybe in his field of work he was used to compromising situations.

"Yes, we go all through rough patches in life, so don't worry I'm not gonna call the cops on you" he chuckled with a wheezing sound that Rachel found similar to those piglets she'd seen on a farm once. Luckily Carl made his departure up the stairs and left the two girls together. Rachel tried to get Santana's attention with her eyes, but the girl probably knew exactly what Rachel was going to say so turned around to cater to her soup. Santana knew that Rachel was only going to point out the very thing she told herself every night. She had inevitably lost the love of her life and replaced him with a sneering jerk. The only thing Santana did end up saying to Rachel was to get the doorbell when it rang, since she was earnestly preoccupied with the soup that decided to bubble and squeak in an unnerving manner, perhaps she wasn't housewife of the year quite yet.

As Rachel walked towards the door she didn't know what to think of the enigmatic Quinn she'd yet to meet. Her idea of a perfect girl in a lemon cardigan with bright blue eyes was shattered by Santana's description of some wild child, but since she was related to someone like Carl neither could Rachel imagine her to be a blue haired punk. To say that she was both shocked and pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. When Rachel Berry opened the door to meet the idea of Quinn Fabray, the reality of it was a sharp contrast. The girl was taller than Rachel and had a slim build, but her clothes were dark and simple. Though Rachel wouldn't have called them goth-like, they definitely had a grunge feel to them that spewed effortless attention and hinted at being a little provocative. Whatever the outfit did, it definitely managed to hug and squeeze Quinn's humbly voluptuous curves at every right angle. Straight away Rachel inhaled the sweet smell of the girl that was a mixture of light cigarettes and crushed vanilla, tied together with her freshly painted black fingernails that were smudged in various places. Her tangled golden mane seemed to object in every direction but still managed to look perfectly windswept playing just above her shoulders, but no attention was torn from her face. Quinn's lips were a slender line of natural colour whilst her cheek bones poked out sharply under her warm porcelain skin. Hazel eyes rimmed with a dark kohl stared back at Rachel with a questioning raised one eyebrow.

"Are you going to move?" A hoarsely seductive voice cooed at her and Rachel was quickly resuscitated back to life and a state of consciousness. Quinn Fabray was the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen, a fallen angel straight from hell. The girl didn't wait for Rachel to reply and made her way into the house straight past her, rhythmically chewing on a small piece of her gum. "Huh" she said as her eyes took in every aspect of the hall just as Rachel's did, "looks like they've redecorate."

"Mhm" Rachel agreed, even though it was her first time inside.

"Who are you?"

"Rachel"

"Oh"

"I like your outfit"

"Thanks" Quinn said with a roll of her shoulders, no actual meaning behind her words. It was as if Rachel had stopped her to ask for directions.

"How did Sammy die?"

Before Quinn had a chance to reply, though in all honesty Rachel didn't really think her expression hinted she would, Santana rushed in and began to fuss over Quinn as if she was an injured toddler. The blonde remained still and expressionless until her brother came downstairs, at least when it came she answered his questions about how their parents were doing – all whilst Rachel stared in a state of panic. Soon enough a very stressed and annoyed Santana summoned them to the table and Rachel was thankful to finally get somewhere where Quinn _had _to talk normally. This would not be the first time that Rachel would be disappointed.

"So how's dance going?" Santana finally asked after a full ten minutes of silence. Rachel had been staring at her plate and decided to make eye contact with anything other than her cabbage would be a mistake. Quinn was obviously staring right at her, Carl was on his blackberry even though Rachel could tell he was on brick breaker, and Santana's eyes scattered at looking from one of them to the next trying to keep everything civil. It was refreshing to hear her voice, and Rachel was thankful that the question was directed at Quinn – maybe that would make her stop staring so bluntly at her. Did normal people stare? Wasn't that impolite? She felt like a goldfish in a tank and decided that she would definitely _not _be taking social skill tips from Quinn Fabray, who was definitely a freak. A hot freak, but still a freak. The sound of Quinn's fork crashing onto her plate forced Rachel's eyes to shoot up to the scene in front of her, even Carl seemed to pause his game.

"Why?"

"Why what, Quinn?"

"Why do you always have to say that and bring it up. So I dance, great, not a big deal" The blonde rolled her eyes again and returned to her cabbage as well whilst Rachel pondered about what sort of dance Quinn could possibly do. After going through every possibility her mind paused at the dirty kind and she blushed a deep crimson at the thought. Quickly she shoved the image out and hoped no one saw her cheek colour, returning to her cabbage as the tension of the table only seemed to grow.

"It's just a nice thing that you do, and I wish that you would talk about it more. Carl and I would love to come see you dance sometime, you know I used to dance-"

"You used to cheer. That's different. And you didn't use to anything, you're the same age as me which means you did it last year." Quinn pointed out and Rachel felt the growing anxiety build in her heart. She hated when this feeling would return. It happened every time she got stressed, it felt like her brain was swelling and getting too big for her head whilst a surge of heat would flood to the back of her neck. Then the music would start playing in her head, it wasn't really there but it felt like it was and it just wouldn't stop. Rachel's hand began to feel that familiar shake and she thankfully remembered the spare pill in her pocket. Three for calmness right? She could definitely use some of that. Subtly she dipped her fingers into her dress as the heated conversation right in front of her continued, though she couldn't focus exactly on the words she got the over all feeling that Quinn hated the fact Santana was so young, also, she learnt that Quinn was an incredible shouter. Subtly Rachel pulled the little white pill from the dress and reached for her glass of water with her other hand, surely no one noticed? She felt Quinn grab her hand as horror filled her own face, the white pill rolled onto the table and Santana looked away. Unnervingly Quinn's face was simply lit up in an expression that Rachel was unable to read. The only thing close to it, was happiness.

"What meds are you on?" Quinn demanded in a strong tone, but there was still a trace of a smile on her perfectly shaped lips. Rachel's throat grew dry and she began to get even more nervous, but there was a spark in Quinn's eyes that made her feel like that she could trust the crazy girl, even a little. Maybe it was that or the fear that if she didn't reply, Quinn would physically pounce on her. The crazy look in her eye was also giving off that feeling too. Rachel slowly looked to Santana but she seemed to be staring at Quinn at disbelief, whilst brick breaker was still more interesting than the conversation for Carl.

"I used to be on Lithium and seroquel" Rachel confessed unsurely, but Quinn's ecstatic expression didn't change, instead she just gave an understanding nod as Santana still stared in utter disbelief of the conversation in front of her, even Carls eyes darted from his phone.

"I was on xanax" Quinn added looking at Rachel with an expression Rachel hadn't seen before, it was sort of the same look Rachel had seen in herself a lot. The brunette couldn't help but feel a smile grow on her own lips as a question played on her mind.

"...Ever been on Klonopin?" Rachel said with a raise of her eyebrows remembering the time they tried that medication and well the dreams that followed.

"Klonipin?" Quinn sneered in agreement with wide eyes and Rachel chuckled. The laughter chorused before it was holted by the harsh sound of Santana's firm napkin on the table, Carl's phone was down and he was looking at the situation with the same disbelief. Rachel felt her cheeks threaten to grow red again as the familiar warmth surged through her face.

"Please Quinn, could we not talk about that at the table?" Santana asked in a strained diplomatic voice, Carl nodded as his own contribution.

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? Do you not like _normal people_? Does everyone have to be normal around you in your sick little world?" her eyebrows arched ferociously and just as Santana was about to apologize and Carl step in, to everyone's surprise Quinn darted straight up.

"I'm tired I want to go home" she announced with a blank expression, to which Santana argued that she didn't even have dessert and she had made her favourite cobbler for her. Quinn flatly ignored the comment before turning her full attention at Rachel. "So what are you going to take me home?" She demanded at the brunette who awkwardly looked at Santana to Quinn.

"You have poor social skills. You have a problem" Rachel remarked calmly, her eyes darted from Quinn's toxic green ones to Santana's.

"I have a problem?" the blonde snapped back. "You say more inappropriate things than appropriate things and you tried to kill your boyfriend. We're going" not waiting for a reply she swooped Rachel's hands in hers and lead her through the house and straight outside, not even letting her call back a thank you to Santana.

"This your car?" Quinn asked tugging the passenger's seat open before sliding in, again not waiting for an answer. Furiously Rachel marched over towards her vehicle and in defeat got into the driver's seat. If Quinn had ruined her chances of Santana telling Finn she was all better she would _kill _the girl, figuratively speaking. However, the sooner she got rid of Quinn from her life the better. She could easily drive back to Santana's after dropping the freak off god knows where. Quinn opened her mouth to say something but Rachel snapped her head round to stare at the girl.

"No talking" she ordered as she got out the drive way, and instead of arguing back Quinn just shrugged with a smirk and sat back into the car seat. Perhaps Rachel Berry had finally found her lightning bolt whether she liked it or not.


	4. Kiss with a fist

Sorry I haven't updated for a while, hopefully with the calming down of a very hectic schedule the updates will be more often. Oh and I hope you enjoy this fast paced chapter, and as always feedback is much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

* * *

"So it's this one here?"

"Yeah this one"

"On the right?"

"Of course on the right, where else? You think _that's_ my house?" Quinn's eyes flickered to the house on the left side of the street which was a predominantly smaller and run down bungalow. It didn't look like somewhere anyone would exactly want to live, but at the same time it wasn't bad enough for the council to knock down. The ivy tangled up the walls of it in a restless way, almost suffocating the 60's style catastrophe. Even through the windows Rachel was able to tell that the house was broken and messy, she couldn't imagine anyone living there – actually she could, and that person was sitting right next to her. That place was _exactly _the sort of home that Rachel imagined Quinn would have, or at least would like to have. However Quinn shot her a fierce look and Rachel's head swiftly produced a series of denying nods. Rachel was no coward, but Quinn was no person. She was almost an animal, and Rachel felt like a piece of meat.

Pulling into the now established home of the weird and not-so-wonderful Quinn Fabray, Rachel produced a silent sigh of relief in knowing that her journey had finally come to a safe end. That is, if you call it a journey. The first ten of the twenty minute ride was driven in complete and utter silence. After that Quinn pulled out a stick of gum which was rhythmically chewed until Rachel couldn't stand the noise anymore. However, she managed to block it out until Quinn tried to turn on the radio. She tried and tried but it wouldn't budge, and Rachel felt very content in the fact that her dads had disabled the music device, even though they couldn't have known about the crazed blond she would have to drive home. Since the radio was a dud Quinn just spent the rest of the journey staring at Rachel with an unnerving bluntness. Rachel wasn't sure what it felt like to be a stuffed animal in a museum, but she was sure it had to feel something like this. To be honest she wouldn't have been surprised if Quinn just reached out and poked her face or something, it was as if the girl was completely inconsiderate of other human emotions – she was downright crazy. The whole scenario made Rachel crave the sanctuary of her room, even if her dads were home. She wanted to be under her covers and enclosed in the safe cocoon that was her bed. There she didn't have to talk to any therapists or lie about what she was thinking, or worry about what other people were thinking – there she could just be present in the moment, moments that Rachel liked to spend writing in her recovery journal. Even though she knew deep down it was more like a tribute to Finn, the journal did essentially help. It made her thoughts more coherent, and somehow made them more real when they were written down on paper. Because no matter how sad or angry Rachel felt, she was never completely sure that was the emotion she was feeling. The hospital had made her doubt her emotions as the doctors repeatedly convinced her she didn't love Finn, they just said it was a fixated obsession. But having the words written down in front of her, having her handwriting read the words 'today I am sad', seemed to help just a little bit.

She supposed she should write down the series of events that had occurred recently, especially since in comparison to her life in the ward they were pretty eventful. But Rachel didn't really want to admit to herself that Santana had changed, or that her husband was a douche, and she definitely didn't want to waste a single page on explaining to her book what a psycho Quinn Fabray was. All her thoughts eventually lead back to Finn, so maybe there wasn't any point to noting down today after all. It wasn't eventful, it didn't matter, and the sooner she forgot about it the better. Rachel pulled the keys out and the engine haulted to a silent stop. Quinn did not leave the car.

Slowly the brunette inhaled a calming breath and counted to ten just as her therapist had told her to do in situations that caused her anxiety (would she constantly be counting to ten with Quinn Fabray? Could she keep it continuous or would she have to start over? Would she reach a billion?). She turned round to look at Quinn out of the corner of her and prompted her to leave with a clearing of her throat and a slight raise of both her eyebrows. _Take a hint, Quinn_.

"You're not going to walk me to the door?" Quinn asked, almost taken back. Instantly the blonde leaned further back into her seat as if to say that if Rachel didn't then she wouldn't be going anywhere. Rachel's eyebrows furrowed and her head spun with confusion, how could one person be so misleading? She was annoying, and complicated, and impossible to read. Being around her was like trying to give directions to a person who spoke a different language, they just wouldn't make sense no matter how much they tried and you can't understand them even if you got a dictionary out. They were just too different, but compromising was a theory that Finn Hudson approved of. However, Finn Hudson certainly wasn't here. With a frown Rachel shook her head in reply.

"Why should I? It's not a date, plus it's like ten steps away and if anyone _did_ attack you as if I could fight them off." Rachel's eyes flickered down the length of her short frame, the girl had always suffered from body image and being short was never something she enjoyed, but she'd began to come to terms with it, and definitely wasn't about to pretend she could fight someone taller than her – which indirectly meant she couldn't fight _anyone_.

"True. You're like a dwarf" the blonde snorted, but Rachel didn't have time to retaliate since Quinn was out of the car before she could even find a good insult. Instead of walking to her house, which unlike the bungalow looked pretty much just like everyone else's, Quinn just stood in the middle of the street with her hands by her side and staring up at the dark night sky. Not doing anything, just staring. Rachel knew she could drive away now and never hear from this strange girl again. All she had to do was reverse her car and drive off, it would be that simple. But what if she got run over? It was dark and she was dressed as dull as you could. As much as she wanted to talk herself out of it the door handle was already in her clasp and slowly Rachel got out of the car and walked hesitantly towards Quinn through the dark night air.

"Go home, Quinn." Rachel ordered, putting her hands on her hips. It didn't look too convincing but it would have to do. Quinn didn't reply and Rachel thought she'd have to stomp her foot down or something. The idea of leaving Quinn here began to sound more and more tempting. Just as she was about to turn around and make her way back to the car Quinn's voice broke through the silence.

"Jeez, you really need to relax, you know that? I am home. I'm just outside, it's not like I'm trying to kill my boyfriend or anything" the blonde snorted again and Rachel's eyes focused in on her with a snarl of a look.

"You can't say things like that!" the shorter girl exclaimed, demanding Quinn's attention. Luckily the mysterious hazel eyes drifted their way to reach Rachel's whilst a smirk still played up on her lips. It was infuriating to have someone look at you like that when you felt so angry. How could someone be happy or take your anger as a joke? That just made it worse, it just fuelled a fire inside of Rachel that she didn't even know she had.

"Why not? You did try to kill him right?" she pointed out with that same blank expression that was so different from everyone else's. It's not that Quinn Fabray didn't think before she spoke, it was that she spoke exactly what she thought. She had the remarkable ability to have full confidence to ask the questions no one else did, an ability that she only attributed from years of torment, guilt and suffering. Rachel was once again found speechless; it seemed as if Quinn was the only person that could make her silent. She hated that, she hated this girl - how dare a stranger say things like that to her? Anger boiled up inside her but Rachel knew that if she was ever going to get better she couldn't get angry anymore. She couldn't let people get in the way of her recovery, especially weird people like Quinn. She had to cut them out of her life and focus on the good. She had to get a job and start trying out new hair styles and go back to Santana's house and try to explain to her that she didn't really want to leave with Quinn at all - which made her question why she did in the first place. It was stupid, it was stupid to let this girl threaten the life ahead of her. Quinn Fabray would not be getting in Rachel's way of a happily ever after, she just wouldn't let her. And there was no way that when Rachel turned around and left this girl that she could ever try to contact her again. Just as Rachel was about to leave her for the final time she was met with the oddest sensation of her life, which now belonged to the most life changing moment of her existence so far, even if she didn't know it.

Right there in the middle of a street she didn't know the name of, with a girl who she didn't know anything about, Rachel Berry stood with her lips pressed to Quinn's - well, it was more Quinn's pressed to hers. The kiss came out of nowhere, Quinn bolted so fiercely at her that Rachel thought she was simply going to attack her or something, but definitely not _kiss_ her. She couldn't get her thoughts together, why was Quinn doing this? Why would she want to kiss a stranger? A girl? Rachel of all people? Why did her lips taste like a fresh crushed a strawberry ice-lolly on a hot summers day? And why was she faced with the unbelievable desire to hungrily kiss her back? Rachel pushed her off immediately.

"What the hell was that!?" the brunette screamed, staggering back. Quinn only came forward once again, almost clasping Rachel's face in her hands.

"I've got an annex at the back of my house, my parents are out, we could totally have sex and no one would even hear"

"_have sex!?"_ Rachel screamed, her eyes widening in a mixture of curiosity and horror as if she had just endured the most shocking statement of her life, and in hindsight, she probably did. "What the hell are you talking about? You're _crazy_ I like guys."

"So do _I_!"

"I'm practically _engaged_"

"So am _I_!" Quinn screamed back holding up her left hand revealing a small silver band that Rachel hadn't seen before. Her pale hand was almost shaking in the darkness and it made her look both dangerous yet vulnerable. Through the bad lighting Rachel was only able to see glimpse of Quinn – maybe a shine in her teeth, or the white's of her eyes as her crazy stare bore into her, but she could tell one thing for sure – Quinn Fabray's emotions had erupted.

In the darkness of the night sky with Quinn's manic forest green eyes staring back at her Rachel felt the as if the whole situation was some sort of nightmare. But as Rachel's expression stayed still as stone, Quinn's developed into a much darker one of betrayal. "I _saw_ the way you were looking at me when I came in, don't pretend you weren't thinking of kissing me the whole night, and then you play all _straight_ on me?" There was so much anger in Quinn's voice that Rachel's throat grew dry in the anxiety in that moment. She needed to get away. "That's what's crazy, this whole fucking world is so _fucked_ up that everyone just fucking lies to each other" Quinn continued with venom in her voice and passion in her eyes. Once again Rachel's ability to speak was stolen by the force that was Quinn Fabray, followed swiftly by the loss of sensation on the left side of her face. Quinn's hand left a sharp and painful red mark on Rachel before it followed with the rest of her body straight into the house. Rachel was left with a ringing in her ear, the echo of a slammed door, a kiss on her lips and a slap on her face. In just over an hour Quinn Fabray had managed to turn her life upside down, and Rachel hated her more than anything in that moment.


	5. The Big Slut

Dear Readers,

Sorry I haven't updated for a while, busy scheduels seem to have a thing for getting in the way of Faberry feels. However, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And if you haven't actually seen SLP and would like to, I've posted the link before - though I advice you not to if you don't want to ruin the fic for yourself (however I can assure you as it progresses there will be some deviations from the plot!)

Thank you for reading/following/reviewing/etc!

N x

* * *

"Pancakes!"

"Not hungry"

"Oh come on Rachel, have a little something-"

"I said, _I'm not hungry_"

Rachel Berry was hungry, but more painfully, she felt trapped. She had no control, no autonomy, nothing. Just having the ability to make at least one of her daily decisions made hunger a small price to pay, and if cereal at 4am made her feel that little bit better she promised she'd continue the odd ritual.

The days that had followed Rachel's arrival back home seemed to follow this usual trend. It seemed that each one of them followed a template of routine where her dads would somehow manage to get in the way of her mission every second of the day. When she was about to cut her hair (since Finn said her long hair reminded him of the girl from the grudge which freaked him out) they came in and stopped her, when she wanted to add him on facebook under an anonymous name they came into her room just as she was about to send request, and whenever she was openly writing about him in her journal they just so happened to decide to have family time which ruined everything. Rachel was honestly and bitterly aware of the fact that both her fathers were failing at making her feel better. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like she was walking on egg shells or something – every move was calculated by their watchful eye. What did they know about getting better? And why did everyone have some sick need to fix her? She wasn't some broken doll, sure she needed to get better, but that had to be different than being fixed? The only person that wasn't doing that was Quinn, but that was a different. Rachel hardly considered her own fathers to be normal so she really didn't see why they had a say in her recovery. She supposed she'd just be sent back to the hospital though if she put up a real fight, and that would just make it harder for her to get back with Finn – all in all she decided that her privacy was just a price to pay to get her man back. Besides, soon enough it would be her check up in the hospital which would mean plenty of time complaining about her fathers to doctor Brown. Though it didn't really seem like her idea of fun, it did however offer some hope that he'd talk to them. In the mean time, there was always jogging.

Jogging was easy. Jogging was simple. Jogging was one foot after the other getting closer to a final destination – jogging was the closest thing she felt to having Finn. When she was running it was her who is in control, she could control how fast she went and where she went and nothing could stop her. Sure maybe a bus or something, but either way it would be her own two feet that said 'no'. Rachel craved the power to control her own life. How easy everything would be if she could just do what she wanted to. If that was the case she was sure that by now she'd be in Finn's arms and feeling much happier than she did now. But of course it wasn't, and she didn't know where he lived and she didn't know how to contact him. In the bluntness of it all – she was trapped. Oh, and of course there was the case of a certain wild blond.

Feeling 'out of control' with Quinn Fabray would be the understatement of Rachel's life. Usually the lack of control Rachel felt with other people was similar to being in one of those pools with a wave machine, but Quinn Fabray was a tornado in her own right. Unpredictability became her. Rachel was furious and frustrated when it came to the blond, perhaps even more so than her issues with Finn. How dare some random girl kiss her? Rachel felt used and confused and perhaps more frightening of all - curious. Curious about Quinn and curious as to why she enjoyed it so much. It didn't make sense; firstly she was in love with _Finn_. And secondly – she was a _girl_. Sure Quinn wasn't exactly heavily voluptuous but she was a girl in her complete right, she filled her bra out and she had luscious blond hair and a smooth figure and those daring green eyes...Rachel mentally slapped herself at the thought and decided to no longer think about stupid Quinn Fabray. The fact was Finn was her cure and Quinn was her poison. Which just made her infatuation with the girl that bit worse.

"I'm going for a jog" Rachel called out to no one as she slipped into her old gym clothes and tied her shoes onto her nimble feet. How was it that she felt more trapped in her own household than in the hospital? she almost craved the confide of her disgustingly plain hospital room, at least then no one could shatter her thin layer of privacy – at least for thirty minutes at a time till the nurse came to do checks. Maybe neither place was for her, she wasn't happy at the recovery centre and she wasn't happy at home, how did that work? Surely you had to feel good in at least _one _place. That just wasn't fair. She needed to feel safe and happy, she needed to feel secure and comfortable – but what if home wasn't a place? What if home was a person? An uncomfortable wave hit Rachel as she closed the door behind her. Home, regrettably, was one feeling that didn't come into mind when she thought of Finn. Maybe she was homeless forever.

Quinn Fabray shot out of the bushes and ran next to Rachel about thirty minutes after the brunette had left her house. Those thirty minutes had been filled with mundane thoughts and heavy breathing and internal debates about Finn, and most importantly, those thirty minutes had been her own. They were a slice of solitude that Rachel had craved and Quinn had stolen. Before Rachel could even react at her uninvited guest she couldn't help but take Quinn into account – the way that even though it was day time she still had her eyes done dark, the fact that though her blond hair was slicked up in a messy bun it still managed to look ferociously nice, and still through a simple black tracksuit she managed to look like a siren straight out of the sea. Rachel was sure that she was a sailor and soon enough a bus or something would be the sharp rocks leading to her death. She didn't have time to talk to Quinn, and more so, she didn't want to. Quinn was an obstacle when it came to recovering, and frankly, most of their conversions weren't exactly conventional.

"Hey" the blond announced in a strained voice as she jogged side-by-side Rachel, who didn't even slow down at her presence. Rachel knew the best way to handle this situation was to not concentrate of the girl next to her, though she was fully aware that would be an impossible task. Keeping her gaze straight ahead she focused on her breathing as to stay in further ahead, unfortunately, running was just another skill that Quinn could add to her ever growing list of qualities. Quinn shouted and once more and a startled Rachel furiously stared her down whilst still running.

"What?" the brunette demanded as her feet continued to pad along the tarmac of the suburban street.

"I haven't seen you around this week, where've you been?" Quinn questioned, falling a little behind as her own pace slowed down, Rachel couldn't help but feel a little relieved and content at her own talent. However, Quinn's distance didn't seem to be an obstacle for her to continue her unrequited conversation with Rachel.

"I've been busy"

"That sounds like bullshit" the blonde retorted as Rachel frowned to herself. She thought her excuse sounded legitimate, and she was impressed at the way she delivered the line with confidence – it seemed almost believable. Rachel hadn't been busy at all, she'd been in her house tormented by her own mind, and now when she finally got out of the house she was tormented by a whole other mind. She hated the fact Quinn could see through her lie, was it honestly that hard to believe that Rachel had gotten her life back? Was it just Quinn's sixth sense kicking in. All things included, the Fabray girl was beginning to seem less human day by day. Rachel hoped that her lack of response to Quinn's sentence would make her leave, or at the least not ask any more questions – but even though she couldn't see the girl, her presence was very much with her, and it didn't take long for another question to escape those peachy lips.

"Why'd you run by my house?" The girl called out again, and Rachel felt a slither of dread creep over her as she realized that, perhaps subconsciously, this road wasn't just a suburban copy – it was in fact that road where that very kiss had occurred. She wasn't even sure how she ended up here. Before Rachel could defend herself with yet another lie Quinn's lips licked into a smirk "Did our little conversation last week make you want to relive some memories?" she taunted in that familiar voice and Rachel turned round to face her whilst managing to jog backwards, this conversation demanded all the tact that she could pucker up – there was no way that Quinn was going to spread a rumor.

"This is my route, okay? Go away"

"This is my neighbourhood, you just ran by my house!" Quinn snapped back innocently and with a frustrated rough sigh Rachel turned round and continued running straight.

"Look, I like to run by myself okay" she said whilst picking up speed.

"Me too"

"Quinn!" Rachel screamed as she halted and swivelled back to face the girl again. "I want to run alone, could you just stop?" She demanded as the blond finally got close to her and stood with her hands on her hips as she regained her breath. Once again, Rachel had no capability of reading Quinn's expression or catching a certain emotion of her – it was impossible. "I'm running here" Rachel added with the same anger as she raised her hands and motioned to the road ahead, of course the only reply she got was a just as angry and dignified 'me too'. The brunette could feel that familiar surge of anger take control of her emotions, and even though she welcomed the first real and raw emotion she'd had for weeks, she still didn't want to play that game. "Look, this is where I'm running, can't you run somewhere else?" she finished in a more diplomatic tone.

"No" Quinn replied in the same plain shouting tone "I like this road!"

"But there are tons of other roads to run on - what are you trying to do!?"

"This is my neighbourhood!"

With a groan of hatred Rachel flung her arms out to the heavens only to have them come back down and grip her hair in fury, Quinn might as well have been setting her alight. Why did she have to run down this road? Why did Quinn want to follow her so badly? Why wouldn't she just leave? The combination of sleep deprivation, her medication, the atmosphere back home and Quinn fucking Fabray made Rachel want to claw her own eyes out.

"Please!" Rachel demanded as Quinn judged her with a look of caution, her voice a casual as she stood nonchalantly staring at the shorter girl.

"Calm down, crazy..." she retorted as Rachel attempted at retaining a more composed state of grace, another pointer on her 'get Finn back' table. A stroke of genius hit Rachel, clearly Quinn was the slower runner so maybe she could just physically out run her and eventually lose her? She knew it would be hard, exhausting, potentially pointless – but maybe, just maybe, Quinn wouldn't even follow. Rachel began to almost jog but Quinn did exactly the same, causing the two of them to be caught in exactly the same position again. Quinn was sticking to her like glue, and the only way Rachel knew she could lose her, was by spelling it out to the girls face.

"Quinn I'm engaged!" Rachel viciously hissed out to try and make it clearer to the girl.

"Yeah, well me too! Married actually!"

"Your husband's dead"

"And where the hell is yours?"

"You're crazy!"

"I'm not the one that just got out of that hospital" Quinn spat out in an almost mocking tone.

"Well I'm not the big slut!" as Rachel Berry spat out those words something in Quinn's expression changed, and just then Rachel could almost recognize her emotion – almost. There was something less manic in her eyes, less powerful in her smile, there was something brutally honest but at the same time completely fearless. She regretted the words immediately, this different side to Quinn was almost uncomfortable to watch. Rachel had created this monster of a girl and to see a different side, a human side, was something that for her own sake she really didn't want to have to deal with. It was easier to hate Quinn the crazy girl, to blame her for the lack of development on plan 'Get Finn back', to take all the frustration that she had towards herself and throw it on the blond. Quinn was a blank canvas that Rachel had managed to smother with all her own colours, mistakes and faults – and now she was showing her own, and most frightening of all, they were surprisingly captivating. "I'm sorry, look I'm sorry I shouldn't have said" she began taking a step closer to the uneasy blond who'd now looked away, something that Rachel never seen her do before. And just like always, Quinn once again surprised her – the vulnerability disappeared and the power returned.

"I _was_ a big _slut_!" Quinn announced with full force "But I'm not anymore. There's always going to be a part of me that's sloppy and dirty, but I _like _that, with all the other parts of myself – can _you_ say the same about yourself!?" She demanded staring straight into Rachel's bewildered eyes, who now regretted standing in such close proximity to the other girl. "Can you forgive? Are you any good at that?"

Those were Quinn's last words before she took off running in the opposite direction, leaving Rachel stranded on the road alone. But something had changed, something powerful had occurred, something had happened in those last few moments that made Rachel Berry for the first time in her life and short time of knowing Quinn want her to come back. All that Rachel wanted was for Quinn to run back.


	6. My Cherie Amour

The song referenced in the waiting room is "My Cherie Amour" by Stevie Wonder. Oh, and back to longer chapters now, Enjoy!

* * *

Rachel looked around the waiting room with a deep sense of defeat. Maybe it was naive for her to think that she wouldn't see these walls again, but somehow she just didn't imagine the time to come back would be so soon. Of course this time it was different, after her session with doctor brown she could actually leave – but coming back for a check up was just another reminder that she wasn't fixed. Straight away Rachel was hit with the waiting room smell, or that's what she liked to call it anyways. It didn't matter if you were waiting in hospital for your flue jab or holding your puppy to get it neutered, every medicinal waiting place had the same pungent smell of sanitizer and a false sense of hope. The bright paintings on the wall reassured you that when you went out you'd be a better person, the fern in the corner was probably symbolic for life or some other cliché thing, and finally the smile on the receptionist lips made her seem almost ignorant to the fact you had a problem. Sometimes Rachel wondered if the receptionist would ask whether she wanted a beverage, since she had the same smile pasted on her face like all the waitresses she'd ever seen. To sum it up, waiting rooms were fake. They were a lie. They were a place where you could sit and collect your thoughts until you had to face whatever doom awaited you. At least they were quiet, that's one thing that Rachel appreciated about them. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad, maybe if she just co-operated and came to these sessions she'd never have to go again – she'd be deemed normal. But that didn't stop the brunette kicking up a fuss in the morning when her dads told her it was time to go. It was like preschool all over again, just this time with more medication.

"Morning Sammy" Rachel said blankly as she walked through the room and headed over to the receptionist desk. It made her sort of sad that she recognized the girl, or maybe it just made her feel like she fitted in around here – she wasn't exactly sure which emotion was worse. The pale ginger haired girl looked up at Rachel in a different way that all those times before, a mixture of suspicion and worry inflicted into her gaze. On a normal day back when Rachel was in the hospital she knew she'd pick up on these little changes, but right then she just wanted to get out. She dreaded bumping into anyone she knew considering the fact her outfit consisted of an old football jersey and jeans, but that worry was quickly put to rest when she realised the only people that she would know around here would be dressed far worst. Her eyes flickered around the room just to check and once they landed on an old man she didn't recognize they made their way back to the nervous Sammy.

As Sammy's pale fingers slid over the patient sign in form the tension in her expression became more prominent, though it was clear she was trying her best to hide it. Of course, Rachel's senses were right and her signature dipped as her fist clenched involuntarily. Music. There was music in the waiting room – there was _never _music in the waiting room. It wasn't just music though, it was that song. It was _the _song. She dropped the pen immediately as a cold sweat flew over her making her go weak at the knees. Rachel tried to ignore it, she tried to force herself to remember that the same song had made a permanent residency in her subconscious and when she thought it was playing it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But there was something different this time, there was something real. Her heart rate started to rise as the blood flushed out of her head and her throat grew hoarse and dry.

"Is that song really playing?" Rachel demanded Sammy as she cleared her throat and gripped the desk to steady herself. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. She'd been doing so well.

"Oh" Sammy said in a fake air of surprise "Yeah, we have music playing now" the girl added in a rehearsed and uneasy tone. Rachel's head threatened to spin around the room and even the old man looked up from his passive position.

"That song is killing me" Rachel blurted out fiercely, trying to contain herself as much as possible. But it wasn't possible, it wasn't possible at all. That melody. Those words. That moment. It all went downhill from there. He got down on his knee. Finn was on his knee. They were going to get married. He proposed to that song. That song was meant to be their first dance. That song was what was stuck in her head when Rachel was meant to sing _her _song. That song broke Rachel in ways that a person shouldn't be broken. "Could you please turn it off?" she added desperately in an almost pleading voice, at the same time there was something robotic about it. She couldn't function right then. She couldn't cope in that moment. His face just kept spinning and spinning around her head. The touch of his hand. The quirk of his smile.

"I can't"

"What do you mean you can't?!"

"...I don't have the controls" Sammy replied meekly, her composure breaking as the strings that kept Rachel together started to snap one by one. "-I'm sorry"

"Did Doctor Brown put you up to this?" Rachel demanded feeling herself get light headed. _Rachel, will you marry me? _another blow of nausea and anger flooded her consciousness. "Is there a speaker here!?" the brunette shouted again as she found herself pacing the room as the music continued to torment her mind and ring through her body. That moment. Finn. That chance. Gone. NYADA. Gone. Rachel pounced towards the pile of magazines as her hands flung them off the table "Is it here? Is the speaker here?" she continued in a rambled voice smothered with anxiety. Why was that song still playing? She needed to turn it off. She needed the music to stop. Was it getting louder? Did Finn think about that song? "Or is it here!?" the fern in the corner was the next victim. As soon as the ceramic pot crashed and emptied its brown soil contents onto the floor Rachel was pulled out of her trance to find not only Sammy and the old man staring at her but Doctor Brown too – the music had stopped and she swore she could feel tears down her face. But her cheeks were dry. This wasn't the first time she was unable to cry when it came to Finn Hudson. It was as if her body rejected the idea of their love even though her mind continued to convince herself that it was real. She looked at the mess she made, she looked at the panic in Sammy's eyes, the almost disappointment in Doctor Browns, and then down to her own two hands. She could almost feel the driving wheel in between her grip. She could almost feel her pressing down the accelerator as she saw Finn. "I'm sorry."

* * *

"That was a messed up thing you did Doctor Brown, that's just a messed up thing, I'm sorry but it is" Rachel said with disgust as she sat looking away from her doctor with her arms crossed. His room was nice, different from the waiting room for sure, but it brought back memories that she just didn't want to relive. She'd put them to rest, just as she did with that one connected to that song. Of course she knew that she would hear music eventually, it was inevitable, but the chances of hearing _that _song – well they were low. She decided to count the books on the oak shelves instead of look at the man who had sent her into a full hulk-coma (that was a term Rachel came up with by herself, it was for those moments where she'd lash out angrily but then not remember it afterwards – in fact, she could swear that angry person wasn't even her. It sure made it easier to cope with the fact she did try to kill her boyfriend, but at the same time love him.)

"You can call me Roger"

"Yeah? Well _Roger, _that's not the way you're meant to meet people okay?" by now Rachel had given up on the no-eye-contact rule and had positioned herself to look straight at him. "You should write that down in that stupid little book that you write stupid little things down in" she added motioning with her hand to the leather book on her doctors lap. True those 'stupid little things' were mostly about Rachel, but that was exactly why she found them stupid. She wasn't just some character that needed to be analysed and changed, she could be exactly who she wanted to be without the help of some guy with a degree. She was doing just fine until he came along, as well as Quinn of course.

"I'm sorry about that song" Doctor Brown apologised almost genuinely "I wanted to see if it was still a trigger for you-"

"Bravo! It's a trigger" Rachel satirically said reclining into the plush seat. "And by the way, I can tell you now – I'm not going to be taking anymore meds"

"But you have to.."

"I've only had one incident!"

"One incident can change a lifetime, Rachel."

"I know that, I do – and I'm ready to take responsibility for what I did as long as takes responsibility for what he did!" she tried to argue whilst at the same time staying calm. That was the trick when it came to your doctor, don't show any of the symptoms that kept you locked up. But then again, maybe it was not showing them that did the trick too? Rachel had given up playing that game a long time ago, her slogan now was just 'Act normal'. Normal was bullshit.

"What's his?" he prompted even though he already knew.

"What's his!? Are you joking?!" Rachel replied almost horrified. How could someone even ask that question? Did anyone really believe that out of nowhere Rachel would try to kill the love of her life? Was that what people thought of her? She was so shocked that she had to take a moment to compose herself, so much for not living in the past – it seemed as if that's all that Doctor Brown had planned for today. "Well then let's go back to the incident."

The next few minutes in that office felt like a lifetime to Rachel as she confessed the series of unfortunate events that had landed her to be in that seat that very moment. She started from the beginning, since she thought that was important. Mentioning the usual stuff it wasn't long until she got to moments before her NYADA audition. There she was, practicing her hardest since in an hour the audition of her life would come knocking, when it happened. The choir room was mostly empty that afternoon and Rachel was just about to set off to the Auditorium where she would perform, that was when she heard the song. She didn't know where it was coming from and before she could find someone the lights were dimmed and Finn made his way out of the shadows. Regrettably as she was telling the story she realised it was much more romantic in the moment, but at the same time tragic considering its repercussions . The song was playing and Finn got down on one knee and popped the question. Of course she said yes (Rachel also skipped over the kissing and flailing part that proceeded directly afterwards) and then it was four o'clock and she had to be back stage. Leaving Finn and having a heavier left hand Rachel found herself feeling worryingly relaxed as she listened to Kurt's audition. Though there was one problem, a problem that had been a reoccurring factor throughout Rachel's life – what was in her head. Instead of the lyrics of Don't Rain On My Parade she found herself filled with lines from the Stevie Wonder song that Finn had played, instead of the key structure to the Barbra classic she started humming to the beat of my Cherie amour. And when it finally came to perform – nearly nothing came out.

"So what, he get's to ruin my life and my one shot at happiness because he's a doofus when it comes to timing and I get fucking chastised for it? All I did was drive, I hardly hit him, he's still alive isn't he? What about me? Am I alive? Do you think this is alive?" She questioned once she finished her story of her miserable existence. There was a trace of sympathy in Doctor Brown's eyes which was a rare sighting for a professional, but Rachel didn't have time to appreciate it. She was torn. The words that came out of her mouth just didn't fit with the thoughts in her head. So which one was right? Did she mean what she said? Or was it someone else talking? Was her gut feeling the hulk or was it her mind? Frustrated she resumed her position looking away at him. She didn't want to talk about the whole getting arrested and screaming at him part either.

"Rachel, can we talk about something that happened maybe before the incident?"

"Well, I – a week before I tried alerting the principle and then the police that there was a plot behind the NYADA faculty to send an imposter to my audition to kill me instead of listen to me sing. But that...that wasn't true. It wasn't real, it was a delusion. Then we went to the hospital and they said..." Rachel felt the words cling to her throat and refuse to come out. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that some people got to be normal, that they got to cope with life, that they got to fall in love and not go crazy – and then some people were like here. She didn't want to stick a label on herself. She didn't want to admit to the world that she technically crazy. She didn't want to be special in that way, she wanted to be normal in that way. She wanted to be wanted, to be loved, to be desired – those things just weren't happening for her.

"Undiagnosed Bipolar" Doctor Brown finished for her and Rachel gave a shy and embarrassed hesitant nod. She might as well change her name to that when it came to the hospital, that was all they saw.

"Yep. With mood swings and delusional thinking brought on by severe stress...which rarely happens" Rachel finished quietly now averting her attention to her clammy hands. She felt like she was reading a tin and those were her ingredients. She wasn't Rachel anymore, she was the blue pill on Monday and the pink one on weekends put together to try to be what 'Rachel' was meant to be. Maybe this was how she was meant to be? "I've been dealing with this my whole life. All alone."

"That must've been hard"

"Yes – especially when you have no idea what's happening to you. Everyone just calls you a control freak or over ambitious but – well I do know now. Sort of. So it's okay."

* * *

As soon as Rachel got back home she instantly crawled into her gym kit and slid her trainers back on. The meeting with Doctor Brown had been horrible, it had been the ultimate bitch slap reminder that she completely insane. She made a mental note to replace the pot plant but except for that she knew there just wasn't much she could to convince him that she was okay. What even was okay? And was she that? Those were the kind of questions that Rachel tried to not think about, simply because it was too hard. It was too painful to realize you weren't okay, especially when you didn't know how to fix it. Medication? That didn't exactly seem to work, and she swore she was putting on weight from it – a huge disaster when it came to plan Finn. Finn? Maybe he was the solution, but finding him was growing near impossible to do. Friends? Probably not, they just reminded her just how 'not okay' she was. Well, all bar Quinn – but then again she wasn't a friend. Rachel had been putting off another feeling for the last few days, a feeling of dreadful guilt. She hated how her last conversation had ended with the blond, and even more so she hated that the words that came flying out of those peachy lips were true. Everything that Quinn had said was true. It made it hurt just that bit more. Rachel didn't actually think she upset Quinn, since that task was another thing she deemed impossible, but she definitely jolted her which wasn't something she enjoyed. She felt partially obliged to make it up to her and at the same time she just didn't see a good result at the end of that action. Quinn Fabray was probably incapable of happiness – and maybe that was Rachel's category too.

With the sound of her father's shouting "Don't look for Finn!" behind her, Rachel set off to her usual route with only the sound of the cold breeze slamming against her ears. But somehow, her mind just came back to stupid Quinn Fabray and her stupid words. She couldn't even run with the weight of those thoughts, she had to think about it straight and figure them out so she could forget about them. She knew she couldn't talk to Doctor Brown about Quinn because if she even mentioned the girl he'd just have another topic to taunt her with. She wouldn't put it past him to bring Quinn into the office. Perhaps she just had to be her own therapist this time. Halting to a stop she made sure no one was around before she caught her breath and stood up straight.

"Alright Rachel. Time to lay your cards on the table" She said aloud just to get used to it. She knew she couldn't just think about it, it was as if she didn't trust her mind anymore. Saying it would make it real and honest, saying it wouldn't let her mind manipulate it. "Quinn is a slut. True or false?" she asked herself, now came the time for the brief thinking part, the almost subconscious part. The question that seemed obvious to ask next was why she was a slut. This time Rachel made a more thorough check of the perimeter before she answered outline. "After the dinner she said we could go to the back and have sex." She nodded as the words were making sense. "And she still wears her wedding ring...so she's a loyal-married-to-a-dead-guy-slut" Rachel added, even though the words were harsh she just needed to get them out of her system. Then of course, the other part of her brain came into play (she wondered since when did she even have a 'team Quinn' side?), maybe Quinn just needed a friend? Rachel didn't have an answer to that one so she finished with the heaviest question of them all to herself.

"Quinn said she wasn't a slut. _But _she likes that part of herself – and can you say the same. Can you say the same, Rachel?" It definitely felt fifty shades of crazy to be having this conversation with herself but Rachel came to the conclusion that no – she couldn't. What did that say about her? What did that say about Quinn? What it definitely made Rachel feel was that perhaps Quinn wasn't exactly how crazy she made her seem, and maybe actually, not that bad either. Maybe.

A lightning bolt struck Rachel.

If she became friends with Quinn, who was friends with Santana and her husband who were friends with Finn – then Finn would see what a kind, patient and caring person that Rachel had become. She wasn't uptight Rachel anymore, she wasn't bossy or controlling, she would be seen as humble and sympathetic. Making friends with Quinn was the perfect opportunity for her to not only tell Finn how much better she'd become, but _show _him.

Quinn was no longer her problem. Quinn was her solution.

Rachel turned around and headed towards a different path on her usual route, this one was quicker and got to Quinn's house faster. There was more ambition in her every footstep, there was more haste in her step and desire in her body. She had to find Quinn, she had to make friends with her – how didn't she see this before? Santana and whatever his name was had to tell Finn about Rachel's kind ways, there wasn't another option. She'd turn Quinn into a respectable girl with normal make up and less sleazy clothes and then Finn would just be dying to get back together with her. Saving Quinn would save Rachel, it was the perfect plan. Just as she'd hoped a waft of wild blond hair emerged from the bushes.

"Hey!" Quinn yelped in a partially angry voice as she ran by Rachel's side. This time, Rachel was actually happy to see the enigma.

"How do you know when I run?" Rachel asked genuinely curiously, but also with a sense of relief. Maybe luck was finally on her side. She was just glad she wouldn't have to spend the evening running circles until Quinn did come out.

"I just wanted to clarify something" the blonde continued, falling a little behind as she did the last time. "I just want us to be friends" she added as she patted along behind Rachel. Rachel had almost become accustomed to the soft addition of Quinn's footsteps to her run. Rachel began to slow down as they crossed the street and both ended up standing outside a small restaurant. As they regained their breath Rachel cleared her throat slightly.

"Do you want to have dinner at this diner?" The brunette asked motioning with her head to the small duplex to the side of them. She waited as she watched Quinn's expression, it was like a spontaneous rainstorm in summer. First it comes out of nowhere hard and heavy, just like the sense of shock engraved into every crevice of the blondes face. Then finally it calms down, not a trace of it left. Quinn had returned to her mask of mystery and as Rachel prompted for a reply with the raise of her eyebrows she was once again taken back by the words that left those perfectly shaped lips.

"Pick me up at seven"

And then like the storm she was gone.


	7. Two To Tango

Ten minutes. Rachel Berry had been waiting a whole ten minutes in the cold. It was the kind of cold that made you regret not wearing something warmer, but Rachel promised herself no more regrets. It was so tempting to over think what she'd wear tonight, but that meant that she cared what Quinn thought of her – something the brunette didn't exactly want to admit just yet. She settled on a navy skirt and beige jumper, the combination with her warm tights and winter coat meant that she looked perfectly civilized She knew that Quinn wasn't exactly going to take notes to give back to Finn, but every bit helped. But right now, Rachel wished that she was in a full Eskimo suit. Every time she sucked in the sharp ice cold air she muttered under her breath how she just wished that Quinn damn Fabray would hurry up and come out. Her wish was granted. As Rachel waited by the porch of Quinn's extension building from her parents house the door quickly opened then shut tight again, a certain blonde exiting through the darkness. In the dim porch light she strolled over to Rachel, her silhouette finely enclosed in a tight black outfit – the only things letting Rachel recognize her was the reflection in her eyes and the way her blonde hair lit up under the street light. She wandered across to Rachel in an enchanting manner, her hips boldly moving in rhythm to her strong walk – she was fierce, but at the same time alluring – and most of all, completely out of bounds. Rachel had to tug at her wedding ring finger to bring her back to reality and Finn, even though she wasn't entirely sure those two things were the same things anymore. She gulped as Quinn approached.

As always, the walk to the diner was silent. It seemed that most places that the two of them went involved them either fighting or being quiet, Rachel definitely preferred the latter. She didn't think her and Quinn had actually ever had a normal conversation before, though she was pretty sure that was down to the fact that Quinn wasn't normal. Was it even possible to have a conversation with an abnormal person? Or did it take two to tango and was Rachel just as bad? That was another thought that the brunette didn't really like to dwell on. It was easier to separate herself from Quinn – Quinn was crazy, and she herself was just...misunderstood. Rachel was thankful that they got to the diner, even though Quinn's poker straight expression was slightly unnerving. The other girl wore her hair up in a messy updo in contrast to Rachel's own straight locks, she was a little curious as to how effortlessly perfect it looked but just didn't think asking Quinn was a possibility. Except for Finn, she hadn't exactly thought about what they were going to talk about in general. Clothes, boys and celebrities weren't really up Quinn's street, and frankly Rachel wasn't sure that they were down hers either. If worst came to worse she knew that they at least had common ground when it came to medication. Pushing that thought immediately out of the way Rachel followed Quinn inside the busy diner and into the free both that the waitress lead them to. Rachel imagined what the old waitress must've thought of the two very different girls – could she really believe they were friends? Maybe if they looked more alike they could've passed for distant relatives. However, the look of complete boredom in the elderly woman's creased face suggested to Rachel that she probably didn't really care.

"And here are your menus" the waitress motioned as she handed the plastic sheets of paper to each girl. Even from a distance Rachel could smell the thick layer of flowery perfume that lay intertwined in the woman's auburn curls. She almost wanted to order quickly just so she'd leave. Scanning the menu a sudden snap of panic filled Rachel's heart, she definitely didn't think about this stage when she walked down to Quinn's house. The brunette's palms grew warm with worry until suddenly she looked up with a smile.

"Raison Bran, a bowl of Raison Bran please" Rachel answered briskly, handing over the menu back the wrinkled server. Even from the corner of her eye she could see Quinn's expression, if Rachel hadn't been nervous before she definitely was now. Complete judgment and curiosity filtered its way into Quinn's smoky eyed gaze.

"Tea" the blonde ordered, shutting her own menu and passing it back just as Rachel had. Ironically just as the other lady left Rachel craved for her to return. The silence that filled the table was much more prominent that the other ones that the two girls had experienced. In contrast to the happily chirping couples, friends and families that cluttered booths around them these girls were prominently out of place. Quinn's expression of nonchalance was baffling, she almost looked bored. Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she was always like this, was it even possible for someone not to be a people's person to this extent. Her skewered green gaze locked itself out of the window they were sat by and Rachel knew that if she didn't say something now, the ice would be too thick to break.

"You look nice" she offered in a diplomatic tone of voice, only receiving a mild 'thanks' from Quinn. Luckily the waitress was back, this time with food. Putting the bowl of cereal and milk in front of Rachel and then the cup of tea besides Quinn the waitress firmly excused herself, Rachel was almost jealous. The food was still an excuse for Rachel to divert her attention from somewhere other than the unimpressed blonde. Hastily she pulled the bowl closer and picked up her spoon, motioning around each piece of cereal before preparing to take a spoonful – once again Quinn caught her in her tracks. Slowly Rachel's eyes picked up on the stillness of the blonde across the table from her, and when she finally looked up she saw that Quinn was simply staring at her. Rachel felt as if she was in a zoo. "Do you want to share this?" She offered with a slight tone of guilt, edging the bowl closer to the middle of the table.

"Why did you order raison bran?" Quinn sighed with a slight raise of that familiar eyebrow, none the less she picked up her spoon and leaned forward as she took her first mouthful. With regained courage, Rachel followed lead.

"Why did you order tea?"  
"Because you ordered Raison bran"  
"I ordered raison bran because I didn't want there to be any mistaking it for a date" Rachel concluded with edge to her tone. Of course in a normal situation perhaps her comment may have deemed odd, but the fact that Quinn wanted to sleep with her was still a possibility that had replayed itself in Rachel's mind.  
"It can still be a date if you order raison bra-"  
"It's not a date" Rachel confirmed again. This time Quinn just rolled her eyes and continued chewing, Rachel wasn't even sure that by her tone of voice she wanted it to be a date, not that she blamed her. However, even if the conversation was just about dried fruit cereal it was still conversation – something that Rachel wasn't willing to use just yet. "So how's your thing going?" she asked before taking another spoonful of the cereal. "The dancing thing" Rachel added just in case Quinn wasn't sure. The blonde's chewing began to slow down.

"It's good – how's your restraining order going?" she replied flatly finishing her mouthful.

"I wouldn't actually call the restraining order my _thing_, but getting back with Finn is and actually...I've been doing pretty well. Except for a minor incident in the doctors office" Rachel brought her eyes up to meet Quinn's and could read the faint trace of curiosity that lurked in the girls eyes "I wish I could just explain it to him in a letter, it was minor. And if I could just explain it and let him know that I'm not actually out of control, and that I'm doing _really _well" this time when Rachel looked at Quinn all presence of curiosity was gone, it seemed like the other girl was much more interested in the cereal between them. And then something clicked. Quinn looked up with an almost smirk and Rachel could swear she saw something flash across the other girls eyes.

"I could get a letter to Finn. I see him sometimes with my brother"

And in that moment Quinn Fabray was no longer a riddle but an answer. She was the key to fixing Rachel's life.

"Really?!" Rachel blustered out, the enthusiasm obvious in her voice. She tried to keep calm and make it seem like it wasn't a big thing, just so Quinn wouldn't get suspicious, but the grin just wouldn't leave her lips. "It would be so amazing Quinn if you could get a letter to Finn from me, really-"  
"We'd have to hide it from Carl, he's not into breaking the law which this letter would _definitely_ be doing" Quinn added in that same smooth voice, but her words weren't about to scare Rachel off. The brunette leaned in with wonder in her eyes.  
"But you'll do it?"  
"I'd have to be careful" she continued with a sigh. "I'm already on thin ice with my family and you should hear about how I lost my job."  
"How did you lose your job?"  
"By...having sex with everyone in the office" her hazel eyes kept firm on Rachel's, not flinching for a second as each word left her lips.  
"_Everybody?"_ Rachel asked with more curiosity than judgment.  
"I was very depressed after Sammy died, it was a lot of people."  
"We don't have to talk about it"  
"Thanks-"  
"how many were there?"  
"Eleven."  
"Wow."  
"I know" Quinn admitted with a roll of her eyes, as she reached for her spoon again Rachel's voice returned.  
"I'm not going to talk about it anymore"  
"Okay."  
"Can I ask you one more question?" Rachel whispered.  
"Sure...?"  
"Were there any women?"  
"Yes."  
"Really..."  
"Yes."  
"What was...what was that like?"  
"_Hot". _Rachel flushed a deep crimson as Quinn mouthed the word, temptation had gotten the better of her and she already hated herself for asking – but she was curious. Being curious was something Finn deemed a good thing, and Quinn Fabray made Rachel feel exactly that. But as soon as Quinn confessed that, Rachel really couldn't bring herself to focus on raison's. This time it was her who looked back down at the table, but Quinn's gaze stayed firm. Rachel had definitely dug herself into a hole. Rachel decided since she was already in the hole, if she was already in the hole she might as well continue.  
"Did you...how did you..is it different?"  
"Everyway you could, and of course it is, I prefer it. Every touch is more..." Quinn spoke with such simple eloquence that she might as well have been talking about her favourite book, the only thing that stopped her was Rachel's sudden need to bury her face in her hands.  
"We should stop talking about this. Finn hated it when I talked this way about girls."  
"I don't mind" Quinn replied in the same comforting blankness, Rachel definitely felt vulnerable as her predatory eyes pierced through her in the middle of that diner. For all she knew, it was as if she was alone in the room with Quinn. However, thankfully Quinn did change the subject, well almost. It was probably the first nice thing she'd done to her. "Anyway, these fights started breaking out in the parking lot and bathrooms – then the boss calls me in. So he tries to pin it all on me, and then I threaten to charge him with harassment, and well then I got fired. Then they send me home and put me on some meds" She added a shrug as she finished her story and put her spoon down. Suddenly Rachel felt as if she was talking to a different Quinn entirely, one that she'd known for much longer, one that she could almost trust.

"At the doctor's office they played the song – the song Finn sang to me when he proposed, before my audition." Rachel pushed out through a tensed jaw, this was the first time she'd ever really spoken to anyone about it. "And when I hear it I go kind of crazy, sometimes I even hear it when it's not even playing. Anyway, they put me on medication too so I get it...I know how it feels. I just needed to find a strategy"  
"Me too."  
"We better get back to the letter, Quinn."  
"Yeah let's get back to the letter."  
"Why don't you...why don't you tell Finn when Carl's in the bathroom?"  
"Yes.." Quinn purred in a low voice "Yes I _love _that"  
"Wait" Rachel stopped herself, her expression furrowing in realisation "Was the dinner a test? A test for Finn? Was it to see how I was?"  
"Yeah I kind of got that feeling too" Quinn agreed, reclining into the cheap leather of the seat. "But it's fine, you did fine."  
"Fine? Did Carl say that? What did he say?"  
"He said you were cool, it's okay"  
"_Cool?"  
"_Cool, yeah. He said you were cool but still you know.."  
"What?"  
"Well...how you are"  
"How I am?" Rachel chocked on the words "And how's that?"  
"Just how you are. Sort of like – well sort of like..._me_." As soon as the sentence left Quinn's lips a fury in Rachel picked up and threatened to smash the table, well maybe not the table, more like the spoon. She was furious, how could someone possibly think that she was like Quinn? Quinn was still a slut, she was crazy and she wore too much eye make up and she accused her boss of sexual harassment when she was just the work slut. Rachel was nothing like Quinn, she couldn't be, Finn would _hate _Quinn, which would mean Finn would hate _her_.  
"Sort of like _you!?_" Rachel exclaimed in bewilderment "I hope to _God _he didn't tell Finn that"  
"Why?" Quinn retorted, her expression a mixture of hurt and shock but still covered by her enigmatic veil. Tonight was painting Quinn out in colours Rachel didn't knew existed.  
"Because...It's just not right – lumping you and I together.." she hoped that Quinn would understand where she was coming from, surely she had to? She'd given Rachel the whole acceptance speech hadn't she? "It would just be wrong, Finn wouldn't like that – especially after all that crazy stuff you just told me"  
Slowly Quinn's eyes returned to their piercing state, slaughtering Rachel with one evil glare. "You think that I'm crazier than you?" the blonde asked, with an almost scoff.  
"I mean more different maybe..."  
"Oh my god" Quinn retorted in disgust, pushing herself further and further away from Rachel, her expression smashed with disappointment. "You know what? Forget that I offered to help you – forget the entire fucking idea." Her voice grew louder and Rachel started to immediately regret every sentence she'd said prior. "Because that must've been fucking crazy of me" again Quinn's voice began to boom louder, her eyes unfortunately never leaving Rachel's – keeping them prisoner to her menacing glower. "Because I'm so much _crazier_ than you" she taunted, slamming her hands down on the plastic of the table.  
"Keep your voice down, Quinn"  
"I'm just the _crazy _slut with the dead husband!" Quinn cackled as her fists clenched with range, Rachel could feel everybody looking around and staring, she couldn't bare it – a mixture of guilt and embarrassment congested her thought process. She had to calm Quinn down, If this incident got back to her parents then she'd be back in the hospital more often. But looking away from Quinn just seemed to aggravate her even more. Rachel just didn't have the courage to look up, only managing a plead for her to be quiet; clearly that was the last straw of sanity in the blondes mind. "No – _fuck you" _she exclaimed before swiping the table clear with one arm, the contents crashing unbearably loudly onto the floor as the audience roared with applause and noises.

Quinn ran out of the door with a hurl of fury and without a second of hesitation Rachel was about to run after her. Of course, reality often got in the way of romance. This time reality wasn't Finn Hudson, it was the five dollars she had to pay for raison bran and tea.


	8. Minus the whore part

"Quinn!" Rachel yelped as she quickly exited the diner, embarrassment following her all the way out. She could still feel everyones eyes boring into the back of her head as they watched her leave, judging her. Rachel couldn't stand it, and part of her wanted to run straight back home as soon as she left that place. The other wanted to chase after the blonde, and it seemed like that part was a little stronger than the other. By the time Rachel caught up it was obvious that Quinn had no intention of slowing down. Quinn hardly even registered Rachel's presence, instead just continued marching down the dark street and only leaving Rachel with the sound of her heels hitting the floor with a wail. It was as if Rachel wasn't even there, and the brunette couldn't help but wish the same thing.

"Hey - Quinn" Rachel persisted, pushing out the calls through her razored breath. "Stop, please just for a second if you could just _stop_" Of course, Quinn had no intention of doing anything along those lines. Soon enough they were in a more crowded street in town, immediately Rachel could feel the familiar sensation of judging eyes focusing on her every move. She felt that sickly feel of a lump growing in the pit of her throat. Swallowing, she trudged on.

Finally Rachel managed to grab onto the fabric of Quinn's coat, which though didn't exactly bring her to a halt, did manage to slow her down enough for Rachel to catch her breath.

"I dont think you're crazy, Quinn"

"Yes you do! You told me yourself just then" She retorted, continuing to plough through the streets which meant Rachel would just have to catch up. The only thing slowing the blonde on a mission down was the slow formation of crowds around them, now at least she had to spend time weaving her way through people. She was like a bulldozer, and Rachel couldn't help but feel guilty for what she said. Logically, she felt guilty because she knew she was jeopardizing the Finn plan - and therefore jeopardizing, well, everything. But emotionally, she felt guilty because the only reason Quinn was so charged up right now was because _she _lit that fire. This was her fault. And if Quinn did anything crazy, Rachel couldn't forgive herself.

"I bet you even told your fucking therapist that you're in a "Superior mental illness category" to me, didn't you?" She exclaimed rhetorically, her porcelain slender fingers reaching for the air in venomous quotation marks as she mocked Rachel, whilst simultaneously still managing to walk.

"You just calm down, Quinn - right this second" Rachel's arms found their way to to either side of her hip as she furiously looked up at the girl, her own brow creased and folded in an expression of dismay as she managed to bring them both to a halt. But Quinn didn't crack, she didn't even look angry anymore - she looked tired. It was the sort of expression you sometimes caught sight of on athletes when the race is over and there they are standing in last place. It's a bitter acceptance, a sort of feeling that doesn't reach tears. It's not sadness, its blunt failure. And as Quinn's hazel eyes rolled in disapproval, exhaustion seeped through them.

"Leave me _alone_, Rachel"

"Can't I just explain myself?" she pleaded to Quinn, taking the moment of silence that escaped the other girls lips as confirmation. "I didn't want Finn to think that I was associated with that sort of sexual behavior because I haven't done anything like that, okay?" she blurted out, her entire expression scrunching up as the words passionately poured out of her puckered lips. "He doesn't like that, I don't like that, it's not me!" Rachel confirmed with a series of stressed nods, hoping that Quinn would just say okay and be done with it. Of course, that sort of reaction was very far off from the reality of the blondes neurotic behavior. As soon as Rachel registered that anger in the girls eyes she knew it was a mistake, but her words couldn't be taken back - she could only brace herself. She had gone too far, and now it was time to endure the wrath of the masochistic Quinn Fabray.

"You may not have experienced the shit that I did, but you _loved _hearing about it didn't you. You are _afraid _to be _alive_. You are afraid to _live_. You're a hypocrite, you're a conformist, you're a liar - and to hell are you straight. I opened up to you and you _judged _me Rachel" Quinn's eyes pierced through her own and never left hers for a split second. Her voice remained a loud enough strain that meant people were definitely looking, but somehow it never quavered or broke. It never trembled. It was sure. Quinn meant every word that fired out of her and Rachel felt every blow and every impact.

"Qui-" she mumbled almost teary eyed as she felt herself for some reason draw towards the girl apologetically, but as soon as she came into reach of the girl, Quinn aggressively drew back.

"Don't you _dare_, don't you even think about trying to say sorry" she threw her words out again, blades that screeched through Rachel's confidence. As the brunette registered they were outside the cinema she also acknowledged that there was definitely a crowd forming. It was as if like magnets they were drawn to Quinn's energy, and she didn't blame them. She was angry again, and Rachel felt like she was in the circus ring with a lion. She didn't know what she could do or say to fix this, but she knew that she had to at least try to keep her calm. Angrily she scraped her hand across her tear line to remove any trace of weakness, but the yelps around her began to throw her off her balance. Comments of cat fights and make out sessions all mixe with the fury of those green eyes began to make Rachel feel just as angry as the girl in front of her, but for no reason at all.

"What? Now you don't have anything to say?" Quinn's arms flew up questioningly, only fueling the worried people around them. Her eyes dared Rachel to speak up, her sadistic smile begged her to say something that would set her off. She couldn't control herself around Quinn, she couldn't walk away from this situation. She was willingly stuck.

"You can't say stuff like that, you can't decide what I am or what I'm not or what I'm-" Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion as she felt her throat grow drier and drier, a sense of unbalance filling her followed by a punch of nausea. "I don't like girls - I like guys..I like Finn" the words became a trial to just form as the eyes circled her.

"Oh sure" Quinn scoffed "You don't like girls at all, it's all about Finn. I must have forgot. Just like you did when I kissed you" a mumble of entertainment grew from the crowd and Rachel's cheeks fumed a deep magenta with anger.

"Stop. Just, stop." Rachel demanded.

"What, we did kiss, right?"

"Stop"

"Tell me you didn't like it"

"Quinn!"

"Or better yet, tell _Finn _you didn't like it, because I'll tell you what - letting him know that you kissed me is the only chance in hell you have when it comes to getting back with-" Quinn's words were obstructed with force as Rachel tackled her, her arms flailing and tugging in an unstable frustrated manner that showed no signs of an actual fight. It only took a few moments for someone behind them to break it up, and for what looked to be a grandpa to pull Rachel off from clinging onto Quinn. Her grip as tight as a starfish as she got yanked off with pure force. To Rachel's luck, there was another person in the crowd that she really didn't need to see right now. She could hear the sirens, the sirens that meant the sherif was here - the same sherif that arrested her that night with Finn. The Sherif knew her past, the sherif knew the rules, he'd see her like this and he'd tell her parents who'd tell the hospital which meant she'd be right back in there. No Finn, nothing. But the sirens weren't the only thing she could hear. The song, her song, _their _song. It circled through Rachel's brain like a whirlwind, sucking in her attention and drawing her further and further away from the reality of the moment. All she could see was the blur of the crowd, Quinn's expression now sullen and worried, the familiar look of disappointment in the sherif's eyes. It all blended into one fine streamline, that was until the mustached man's voice broke through her veil.

"Rachel get off her, you hear?" He took her away from it all, his hand on hers pushing her towards his car and trying to look her in the eye. Slowly she began to be yanked back to the reality of it all, the song just a faint whisper playing through her ears, tempting her to hum along and feel those emotions that were interwoven through every note. "You want to go back there Rach? You telling me you still sick?"

But Rachel couldn't say anything. The Sherifs hands stayed firmly on either side of her shoulder, just about to guide her into the seat of his car before a voice stopped him.

"Hey wait - it wasn't Rachel's fault. Honestly, she didn't do anything..it was a joke" With the confidence in Quinn's stable voice, Rachel felt like she could almost believe her too. It seemed so real when she spoke them. She was so sure of every word she said that it was impossible not to listen and believe. Even the sherifs expression halted with curiosity. As soon as it looked like he was about to talk to one of the witnesses outside the cinema, Quinn yanked Rachel to the side by her hand.

"Rachel, come on - are you okay?" Her hand reassuringly squeezed hers before dropping away immediately. Suddenly Quinn registered what had happened and pressed her lips together, looking away with a few nods before drawing her way back to a very bewildered Rachel. "It's the song, right? So what, you're going to go spend your entire life afraid of that song, huh? Quinn's eyebrows arched in a demanding question, but Rachel still remained too entranced to reply. "it's a song, Rachel - don't make it a monster"

"I-" Rachel's lips parted as if to say something but nothing came out, she was almost winded.

"Come on, breathe. There's no song." The blonde continued, and Rachel clung to her every word. Slowly she took a leap of faith and did what she said - one breath in, one breath out. A warm smile trickled its way onto the blondes face at Rachel's progress. "that's it, look you're doing it. That's it" her voice soothed reassuringly. As soon as it seemed like Rachel's breathing was back to normal and she wasn't about to have a heart attack anytime soon, Quinn's expression fell a little. "I'm sorry, look I'm really sorry" she admitted quietly with deep sincerity.

"I'm sorry too" Rachel managed through her lashes that grew heavier with each breath.

"No, I took it too far -"

the sheriff returned and Quinn took a step away from Rachel. This time the auburn haired man's attention fell onto Quinn.

"Did she attack you?

"Attack me? She's like two inches tall. No, of course not, I swear. It was a joke - a stupid joke."

"A joke? What kind of sick joke is that - she's got a restraining order, did you know that?"

"I know, it was stupid. Sorry. I have a twisted sense of humor."

"You're Quinn?"

"Yes, Quinn Fabray"

"Sammy's widow?"

"Yes alright, Sammy's crazy whore widow minus the whore thing for the most part"

A smile grew onto the sherif's mouth as he looked from Rachel and then back to Quinn.

"So you want to grab a drink some time?"

Quinn Fabray did not respond. Quinn Fabray made a sharp right exit down the street with the same stance she ran from Rachel with. Slowly Rachel's eyes met the sherif's with a piercing look of disgust, burrowed underneath a deep judging frown.

"She doesn't do that anymore" Rachel pointed out defensively, but before she was going to spend another second with him she followed her heart - well, she followed Quinn Fabray - which nervously, was starting to feel like the same thing. This time it didn't take too long for her to catch up, even though a slight run was in order. She was glad that she hadn't worn heels, they wouldn't have been very productive tonight. Rachel wondered if heels would ever be a necessity with Quinn, but decided to leave that thought for another night. This one belonged to no questions, just a sort of truce. By the time she got to Quinn's pace there was a moment where the two of them just walked side by side and completely in sync. No words were said, no thoughts were really explored, except for one that Rachel couldn't ignore - how beautiful Quinn looked in the dark. Under the heavy night sky it made every single one of her features so much more striking. And it was in that moment when Rachel started thinking about those things that she decided she ought to say something, or else her thoughts would just lead to more questions that she didn't have the answers for.

"I really am sorry for what I said in the diner"

"I know, you didn't mean it."

"Yes exactly, I didn't mean it at all"

"You do that quite a lot Rachel, say things you don't mean."

"All the time."

It struck Rachel that they'd made their way to Quinn's house, and soon she started heading off to her extension behind the house. She wasn't sure if the blonde had planned to say goodbye, or planned to say anything actually, but she knew that expectations only bred misery. She was just about to turn around before she heart the sound of the gravel crunching unusually from Quinn's direction.

"By the way, I'll still give your letter to Finn, don't worry" Quinn called as she continued to walk away by the time Rachel looked up to see her. But the brunette didn't move.

"Wow I - I really appreciate that"

"I know you do"

"No what I mean is that's really kind of you Quinn"

"Yeah, sure" She didn't stop walking.

"So I'll see you tomorrow? For the letter?"

Quinn shut the door behind her leaving Rachel in the darkness with a permanent smile on her face. A smile that she knew she'd never be the reason for.


	9. Just Think About It

"Hiram, its missing! One of them is missing!"  
"What's missing?"  
"One of my envelopes, there were thirty six last night – I counted thirty six and now there are thirty five, look I'll show you"

From his glasses Hiram shook his head gently before returning his attention to the breakfast in front of him. Two eggs, two slices of toast, and one very hot steaming cup of coffee. Sunday's at the Berry household usually had a very smooth rhythm to them. Like a tango they started late and drizzled their way into the early afternoon, filled with discussions of musical shenanigans and bites of scrumptious home cooked food. But, the Berry's hadn't had a real Sunday morning ever since Rachel got ill. It wasn't just her absence that made the house disjointed; it was how it affected the two remaining members of the household. Ever since Rachel packed her hairbrush and got locked behind closed doors Hiram could feel a change in not only his husband, but also himself. LeRoy's need for organisation had definitely become worse since her departure, and this very morning was no exception. He collected everything, and what more, he organised it. If anything was out of place, LeRoy would definitely let everyone know. As Hiram took a sip of the hot liquid from his favourite coffee cup, he reluctantly placed his paper down on his laps and looked at his husband who had finally made a pit stop from frantically running around.

"Thirty five, there are thirty five?" The slightly older than middle aged man explained, bracing himself with both hands on the empty seat in front of the table. His untouched breakfast glared at him but Hiram knew that until his husband found his missing envelope there would be no calm Sunday morning. But, now that Rachel was back he found an opportunity to start fixing things. Or maybe just bringing back the things that didn't need to be fixed. Instead of standing um and rummaging around with him, Hiram reclined in his seat and with a hollow sigh gave a roll of his shoulders.  
"So, shall we call the FBI?" he remarked, a slight smirk picking up on the corner of his mouth. LeRoy glared and rolled his eyes, turning around to look through the post in case for some miraculous reason it had ended up there.  
"That's not funny, I told you there is definitely one missing and I'm not having breakfast till –"

"Hey dad's" Rachel pepped through the room with a long lost enthusiasm that caught both of their attention. She seemed so normal, it was almost breathtaking. With her hair plucked up into a high pony and her running gear on it was as if she never left – as if Finn Hudson had never made his mark on their baby girl. Gallantly she picked up a piece of toast and gave a mighty crunch, chewing slowly as she savoured the home cooked delight. After taking a rushed sip of orange juice she made her way over to LeRoy and got something out of her jacket pocket, waving an ivory white envelope in front of. Hiram smirked.  
"Sorry I forgot to ask, but I borrowed an envelope"  
"Rachel you could have said and-"  
"Sorry, got to go" She quickly interrupted before pecking his cheek goodbye and flashing a smile to Hiram who gave that familiar knowing look to her that meant LeRoy would be LeRoy. Unwillingly as he heard the door slam behind Rachel, LeRoy made his way to his seat and picked up a fork. Hiram swore he could see a trace of a smile form on his husband's expression. That was the thing about Rachel, she could make you smile. When she smiled everyone around her had to smile, it was almost as if her grin was contagious and resistance was futile. Of course they were both curious as to her knew found joy, but not suspicious enough to stop it. They couldn't help but enjoy it, since it felt like she was finally home. Sure they wished she'd actually stayed and ate breakfast with them, but seeing her be simply content had to be good enough for now.

* * *

Rachel made her way to the Fabray front door then decided she'd knock on Quinn's extension out back first, it would definitely avoid meeting the parents. As she made her way down the familiar gravel path that Quinn must have made a thousand times, Rachel couldn't help but feel a knot of anticipation growing in her stomach. Quinn Fabray's back house door was forest green. Rachel had never really appreciated it before since usually she'd only been here in the dark, but right now the forest green was impossible to miss. She'd read somewhere that the colour of your door said a lot about you, or more accurately, about your parents. Rachel couldn't help but wonder about the fact that maybe the door was this colour before the Fabray's moved here – but maybe that was the point, maybe the very fact they hadn't decided to paint it said something about them anyway. Whatever doors meant, she had no clue what forest green meant anyway. She could picture it both ways, meaning something good and something bad. Maybe it was all dark and mysterious, just like Quinn. Or perhaps it was alive and energetic, again just like Quinn. If Quinn was a colour, Rachel would not pick forest green. Maybe black. Quickly she dragged herself out of her trance to regain enough confidence to knock on the door. No answer. Then she tried the doorbell. No answer. Awkwardly she lifted up the letter box and gave a peek inside, calling out her name. In normal circumstances this wasn't what Rachel would do, but these circumstances were anything but normal. She was desperate to see Quinn so she could give her the letter so she could give it to Finn – the quicker, the better. Finn needed to know that Rachel was serious about it, that she actually cared. The longer she waited after getting out the hospital the worse it would get – for all she knew he could be on his first date right this second. A shiver ran down her spine as she straightened out and refused to let her think that way. Positive thinking was key. She had to be happy, she had to get better, she had to be healthy. With a sense of failure she hesitantly jogged back to the actual front door, catching her breath as she jolted up the porch stairs. It only took a single short ring for the door to fling open.

Rachel hadn't thought about Mrs Fabray before, but the odd image that she had imagined was a sharp contrast to the smoky eyed Quinn. She was a petite lady, but of course a little taller than Rachel's own petite frame. Her hair was a little lighter than Quinn's golden locks, they almost had a silver shimmer to them. She imagined that Mrs Fabray had been very beautiful when she was young, though there was still evidence of that in her expression then. She had the same fragile and architecture bone structure as her daughter that smoothly stood out under perfected porcelain skin. Her eyes were a little lighter though, and her lips pressed into a thinner line under middle aged make up. She wore a very conservative lemon yellow cardigan over what looked to be a casual milk white Sunday dress which managed to be both formal yet not over dressed. Even through her actions and the slender jewellery that she wore, Rachel could see that she was very much a housewife. This was confirmed by the smell of cherry tart that drifted its way through behind her. There was something a little on edge about her expression though, and suddenly Rachel felt that perhaps a spontaneous visit wasn't the best idea.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked in an almost upset tone, a hint of southern streamed through her words that made Rachel wonder if she'd perhaps grown up somewhere besides Ohio.

"I'm here for Quinn, is she here?"  
"No." Mrs Fabray quickly retorted, looking away as she did so as if a life time of trained manners made her feel guilty for her response. "No, she isn't home-"  
"Is that another creep? What do you they want" Called an unfamiliar male voice, which Rachel decided belonged to Mr Fabray. There was clear anger in her voice, hinting to Rachel that perhaps she hadn't been the only surprise visitor today. A figure came behind the small woman and Rachel knew straight away that she was right. Mr Fabray was very tall and everything about him made sure to show that he was masculine. She wouldn't have picked them to be a couple since Mrs Fabray's appearance hinted to Rachel that she'd have preferred a more conservative husband, but the well exercised man in a humble flannel shirt definitely demonstrated his appeal.  
"No I'm not" Rachel defended, quickly shaking her head and slightly taken back at the way that the stranger glared at her. She never really imagined that she gave off a 'creep' vibe, but she tried hard to not take it to heart. She could see that Mrs Fabray was obviously uncomfortable by her husbands outburst. "I'm just here to see Quinn."  
"You one of her lesbian lovers?" He demanded, his thick eyebrows raising without a hint of amusement. Rachel could hear his wife whisper something religious under her breath before departing, leaving Rachel alone with a man about twice her heart. She was so taken back that she almost wished the blonde returned. Quickly to defend herself Rachel picked up her left hand and pointed out her wedding ring, accompanied with the bravest glare she could stifle.  
"No sir, I'm engaged. I'm engaged to a man. I'm just here to see Quinn because we're friends – we go running" Rachel desperately tried to justify before there was yet another stranger's voice behind her. As she turned around she could see an unfamiliar car had pulled up, and from it a man in a humble suit came running up the porch stairs looking like he'd come straight from the office and couldn't be that much older than Rachel herself.  
"Sorry, is Quinn here?" The nervous looking man with fumbled brown hair asked, innocently looking from Rachel to her Quinn's father. Rachel quickly took a step back and looked from man to man, hoping that the sheriff wasn't close by.  
"Who the hell are you?" Mr Fabray demanded in a deeper tone than he'd used with Rachel – something she was definitely thankful for. Whatever was about to happen, Rachel really didn't want to find out.  
"Oh I know her, actually we dated – I mean we are dating" the young man said with an almost sleazy tone, destroying any sense of nervousness Rachel had picked up on him earlier. His expression also made her loose all sympathy she felt for the wrath he was about to experience. But the man wasn't about to back down. "I've called her and texted her and well she's not picking up and-"  
"Just get the hell out of here" Quinn's dad roared, to his wife's disapproval. Now Rachel wished that the fragile looking woman wasn't here, for her own safety that was.  
"If you could just give her my number, maybe she lost it, and get her to call me back" the stranger said whipping out a cheap looking business card and shoving it towards the parent's direction. Rachel groaned in disgust as she looked away momentarily. She expected Quinn's father to hit the guy, but clearly he cared for his wife's state a little more. Rachel could tell by Mrs Fabray's mannerism that she just wanted to close the door and be done with it, but she could also tell by Mr Fabray's temper and the continued pestering of this guy and his card that that wasn't really an option.

"Just stop, okay? You're being rude" Rachel declared, cutting off the guy mid rant. He looked so taken back that he didn't say anything, his expression matched the parents one in front of Rachel. Even she was a little shocked herself, courage and confidence wasn't something you really kept when you got into a mental hospital. Regaining her strength she stood bold and stared at the man, she wasn't backing down, even if she could feel the Fabray's watching her with almost curiosity.

"How am I being rude? Tell me?" He demanded smugly, reluctantly putting down his aggressive hand that still clutched the business card.

"Look sometimes its okay to do this and have fun with girls, but sometimes – sometimes it's not." Rachel started, knowing clearly that the guy's full attention was on her. She could see that he was still shocked, but with a hard swallow she continued. "It's not because they've got a broken wing and they're an easy target. And in this case, this particular case, that wing is being fixed. And you have to make sure it gets mended, and right now you're getting in the way of that because she's sensitive and she's smart and she's artistic. This is a great girl. You have to be respectful to that." Rachel finished, looking down sheepishly. With a silent sigh she knew what the right thing here was to do. She looked up at the Fabray's and could tell that they'd been through enough. Even the once intimidating man had a look of sorrow in his eyes. She looked back to the jerk in front of them and the letter in her hands. It could wait. "Come on, I'm walking you back to your car" she instructed before latching onto his cheap suit fabric and marching him down the stairs of the porch and back to his vehicle. As she started making her way back home in a slow run she saw him drive away and felt a little more content, though still disappointed. But she didn't stay long enough to see that a certain bird was right behind the wall and heard everything that she said. And though Quinn had never felt to be the reason behind Rachel's smile, there was no denying that Rachel was the reason for hers.

* * *

Rachel's pace picked up as she padded her way through the whistling of the trees, not really sure if she was in the mood for running but not exactly decided that she wanted to be home either. She just felt like being, whatever that meant. She didn't want to be dead or not exist, she just didn't have the desire to do anything available to her. That was until she heard another pair of feet tapping onto the concrete next to her – and then past her. Quinn's blonde hair flew ahead of her at a faster speed than her own and didn't stop.

"Hey!" Rachel called, one hand still gripping onto the envelope. "What about the letter, you weren't there and I showed up and everything?" She continued, finally stopping as Quinn did too. Only then did Rachel notice that Quinn was in her stable black coat and jeans, only her trainers making her capable for the run. It looked as if Rachel would be running alone anyway. But as Quinn caught her breath Rachel could read the look of disappointment in her eyes.  
"I can't do it" she blurted out, avoiding eye contact.  
"What are you saying? Can't do what?"  
"I can't give the letter to Finn"  
"What do you mean you can't do it?" Rachel's voice was packed with betrayal "But you promised?" she waited for Quinn to say something, to say she was just joking, to say anything – to at least look at her. Finally Quinn rolled her head round to look at Rachel and shrugged her shoulders apathetically.  
"Because what am I getting in return?" She demanded exhaustingly. "What are you doing for me?"  
"You said that if I wrote a letter to Finn, that you'd give it to him – that's what you said"  
"I know, I know and" Quinn inhaled deeply and looked up at the sky as if she was waiting for an answer, but eventually nothing came so with eccentric hand motions she continued her rant. "But I do this time after time after time, and I do this shit for all these other people – and then I wake up and I'm" the blonde stopped as she tried to find the right word, locking her eyes with Rachel "I'm empty and I have nothing!" she exclaimed, almost without emotion.  
"What are you talking about Quinn? You seem like a tough girl to me Quinn..."  
"What?"  
"You just do things on your own, you're strong."  
"I always get myself in these fucking situations, that's what I do Rachel." She desperately ran her hand through her mane of hair before looking down then back at the brunette in front of her. "I give everything to other people and I don't get what I want, ok? I'm not my brother."  
"Alright" Rachel exhaled, unable to deny the vulnerability that she could see unwillingly coming from Quinn. Maybe it was just because she could relate to that. Rachel didn't have a sibling to compare to, but she had another Rachel – another Rachel that no matter how hard she tried to be she just couldn't. "Then ask. What can I do for you, Quinn?"  
"No, it doesn't work that way."  
"Come on just think of something, anything – what do you want me to do for you?" Rachel stated, holding onto Quinn's every word. Quinn hesitated and abruptly started a sentence only to stop it. Finally it seemed like she was going to take the plunge and Rachel focused on her entirely.  
"There's this thing."  
"Okay, a thing...what kind of thing?"  
"It's a thing, it's just a thing" Quinn motioned wildly with her hands before hesitating again, adding quickly and almost shamefully "it's a _dance _thing"  
"Alright it's a dance thing."  
"It's a competition, at the Benjamin Franklin Lima hotel, Sammy would never do it with me and"  
"Well Sammy's dead so"  
"Jesus Rachel do you not have a fucking filter? Can we just have one conversation without you reminding me that he's dead? I get it"  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry – you're right, no filter. I'm working on it." Rachel looked away embarrassed, it was something that she really did have to work on. Ever since the incident it was as if there was a short cut made from what she thought and what she said, and she could no longer go the long way around. She had to use the short cut, there wasn't another option really. "The dance thing, tell me about the dance thing" Rachel prompted to keep the conversation going, preferably in another direction that didn't make her feel so obviously insane.  
"I can only do it if I have a partner." Quinn bluntly explained. "And now, well I'm going to miss it for another year"  
"Wait _what_? I'm not going to dance with you Quinn are you crazy?"  
"What, your schedules so busy watching reality tv shows and thinking about Finn?"  
"No it's just I don't _dance _and there's music and we're two girls-"  
"Well then I'm not giving the letter to Finn" Quinn nonchalantly replied, turning away and making her way back home. Rachel stood there alone and shook her head, not letting her get away this quickly.  
"But you promised!" She called after the blonde, who only shouted back that she should think about it. "I already did something for you" Rachel added, anger thick in her tone. Immediately Quinn span around and stared the girl down, her arms raising up in question.  
"What did you do for me?" The blonde demanded as Rachel took a step forward, her heart racing as she tried to regain the confidence she had moments ago.  
"I got rid of that creep at your house" She proudly stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Partially because it made her feel a little stronger, but also she wouldn't put it past Quinn to charge at her. Not that Rachel could really talk, considering the events of the previous night.  
"What? Artie?"  
"Let me ask you something, Quinn. Do you call him when you're lonely?" Rachel stated as the proximity between them slowly began to shrank. By Quinn's baffled and silent reaction Rachel took that as a yes and continued. "That encourages him, you shouldn't do that."  
"Couldn't you say the same about you and Finn?"  
"It's not at all like me and Finn – we're in love and we're going to get married, it's completely different."  
"How are you in love? Tell me about that?" Quinn demanded, crossing her own arms over. "The big 'Finn love'" she mocked "tell me. I want to understand that."  
"We have a very unconventional chemistry, it makes people feel awkward...but not me. It's electric between us. So what if we want to change each other? That's normal, couples want to do that. I want him to stop dressing like he dresses, and I want him to stop acting so morally superior to me and sometimes being so dumb. And he wants me to be more chilled out and stop my mood swings and grow my hair out, and both I've done. I mean people fight, couples fight, we fight and sometimes we didn't talk for a couple of weeks – that's normal. I'm my best self today, and he's his best self today, and our love – it's going to be amazing. You're just jealous."  
"Wow" Quinn slowly answered, her eyebrows arching. "So it's going to be amazing, and you're going to be amazing, and he's going to be amazing and if that's really it you're not going to be that selfish girl that doesn't offer to do something back and help someone else, right? So think about the dance"

Quinn left. She turned around and left just like she always did, making Rachel have no choice but to turn around and do the same. But she did have one choice left, whether or not to dance with Quinn. It was a choice that meant a lot of things; it meant getting the letter to Finn, overcoming her hatred of music, spending time with Quinn. But it had to be worth it. With a grown of frustration she marched off into the direction of her house and decided that she was way too whipped for her own liking. Unfortunately, to the wrong person.


	10. Ju-Ju

It's a long one! Right, so I may have gotten a little bit carried away and included a time passing montage. Potential spoiler alert? You do find out what happens to Sammy in this chapter, along with a few more plot progressions. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for your feedback - reviews are very much appreciated! Enjoy.

* * *

"Rachel Berry. You can do this." Monday evening fell onto Lima Ohio in the form of a deep orange sunset. It was the sort of sunset that made people want to paint pictures of it or capture it in some way. Maybe it would inspire someone to write a song, or even a book. Some people would stop what they were doing and put down the dishes and look out onto the window just for a moment to appreciate it. Others would decide that this sunset meant something, that it was a sign. People are always looking for signs, and one in the form of a sunset was a pretty good way of getting you to do that final push. But Rachel wasn't looking for any signs, she'd done enough looking – and they'd all brought her here to a forest green door with sneakers on and a white envelope in one hand. As she took a deep breath she felt her whole body weigh under the strength of it, knowing what awaited her on the other side of that stupid green door. She knew that she could still run, but the feather light envelope reminded her otherwise. Dance with a beautiful girl; get the guy of your dreams. Rachel bit down on her bottom lip and chewed it nervously as her hand reached for the smooth door knocker, just before she had time to clasp it the door opened. Quinn on the other side of it.

But it wasn't Quinn Fabray at all. The girl that answered the door was a vision similar to the dark and gloomy creature that had recently inhabited Rachel's life, but there was something distinctively different about her. For starters, the simple body hugging yoga pants highlighted curves that Rachel didn't think could even exist on anyone, as well as making her regret wearing her own slumpy tracksuit bottoms. The strappy nike top did the same wonder for her upper body, but all of it was effortless – she wasn't even wearing makeup. Stripped to the minimum with her hair in a high pony, Quinn Fabray looked professional and almost delicate, something about her new found grace and posture reminding Rachel of the woman she'd met yesterday. She was definitely her daughter. Quinn had also traded in her leather boots or various heals for the most simple nude ballet slippers that Rachel swore made the girl walk differently. The once powerful storm had subsided into a spring breeze that Rachel felt completely swept off her feet by. She was definitely not wearing her frumpy outfit next time. The very thought of next time sent a nervous sprawl of shivers down the length of her back. She squeezed onto the piece of paper in her grip tighter for security.

"Used to be a garage" Quinn pointed out as she took Rachel into her home. It was just one room with a flight of stairs in the corner, ones that she presumed led to her bedroom and bathroom. Though small, there was something homey about the empty room with hard wooden floors (that Quinn pointed out to be hard oak). The dance studio showed a different part to the blonde girl that Rachel hadn't not only seen, but wasn't even sure existed.  
"Hard oak, huh?" Rachel repeated about the floor.  
"Yeah, it's good bounce for dancers" Quinn explained with a certain professional charisma. It was obvious that this was a big part of her life, perhaps the only part too. And as if she could read Rachel's thoughts, Quinn added "I'm not that great of a dancer. But, who cares. It's therapy – and it's fun." The smaller brunette nodded to show that she was listening. Something that her enthralled expression probably already gave away. Rachel noticed that the walls were a shade of baby pink and couldn't help but look a little taken back, this was definitely a different Quinn – maybe the real one. "The walls are good, I can play anything I want and no one has to hear it"  
"Mm" Rachel mumbled in return, it was all that she could muster with the thought of music being involved. Her throat began to feel as if it would close up any second as she followed Quinn around the length of the room.  
"I was thinking about putting a ballet bar here" the blonde added, stroking her hand across a section of wall. But Rachel hadn't exactly been a patient person, especially after the incident.  
"When are you going to give it to him?" She asked bluntly, trying not to sound too demanding but not particularly minding if she did. This was part of the deal. Quinn wouldn't understand how hard it would be for Rachel to listen to music, so at least she needed to be sure she was getting her two cents out of it.  
"What?" Quinn said as if she'd just been awoken from a light daydream, honest confusion painted across her face.  
"The letter to Finn" She began in an obvious tone, pulling it in front of Quinn for emphasis that she'd brought it. If the blonde thought she could get out of this then she definitely had something else coming. Rachel was bemused that Quinn didn't mention it as soon as she got in, since that would imply Rachel was dancing with her for no reason other than to please her. A slight sense of annoyance picked up in the girls chest.  
"Probably tonight"  
"Really?"  
"Yep. My brother and Santana were thinking about coming round tonight"  
"Okay. Well, just to let you know I changed a few things. I talked about how I've been reading those comic books he likes and watching a few ice hockey games and how in the future if he wanted to go to one with me that I'd really like that."  
"Yeah, cool." The blonde replied uninterested, snatching the envelope from Rachel's grasp and placing it in the slot of the staircase onto one of the stairs, boredom plastered onto her expression.  
"I even said how generous this is of me to help you. He'd like this"  
"Mhm." Quinn replied as she gently made her way over to the opposite side of the room. "Now walk towards me."  
"Walk towards you? I thought we were dancing. Look before we do I need to ask something, it's about the music-"  
"Walk towards me, Rachel." Quinn instructed again, ignoring Rachel's last comment. A frustrated breath caught in the brunette's lips as she unwillingly made her way over to the opposite corner to where Quinn stood.  
"So what, just walk towards you?" She asked unsurely, seeing no point of this exercise at all, forgetting to be thankful that she didn't need to endure music yet.  
"Fine, try this. Why don't you walk towards me, _like I'm Finn_." Quinn began, only to hear silence from Rachel's corner. "And the only way to convey how much you've missed me is by your walk. Your slow walk. You can't talk. Only walk. Do it."  
"Quinn this is stupid."  
"No walk? No letter." Her eyes dared her to move towards her. With a hesitance Rachel started to do as she was told. "Don't look up until you're half way here" the blonde added a little quieter. Rachel moved one foot from the other, attempting to mimic the way that had Quinn had been moving all those moments before. She tried to concentrate on Finn, but how could you walk to show you missed someone? She knew that Quinn could pull it off, but Finn...he was more of a heavy load at these sort of things. He wasn't graceful when it came to walking or dancing – or anything in that matter. Before Rachel knew it she was much further past the half way line of the room, in fact she was right in front of Quinn, only inches apart. "Now" Quinn whispered, and nervously Rachel picked her eyes up from the floor gaze to meet Quinn's soft breath against the nape of her neck.  
"Do you feel that?" The blonde teased in a whisper. Rachel couldn't look away, those eyes had trapped her and there was no point fighting the draw to the blonde. Quinn smelt of warm vanilla and the promise of something better to come. "That's emotion."  
"I don't feel anything" Rachel lied through her teeth as she snapped back and plummeted across the room as far away from Quinn as she could, feeling the rush of panic fill every inch of her body, her skin electrified from the proximity. She didn't even want to look at Quinn anymore, it was too much.

"Has anybody ever told you how Sammy died?" Quinn asked. The question was so tempting, and she knew it. Of course no one had, but that didn't mean that Rachel didn't think about it. In fact she'd come up with various theories of her own, some even involved Quinn killing him (those were thought in the moments that she was usually mad at the blonde). But she couldn't resist it, she couldn't say no to the answer she would beg to hear. Reluctantly she looked up and shook her head.

"We were only married for a short while, but I loved him." Quinn began, her struggle to keep composure evident even through her strength. Perhaps only to Rachel though. Maybe it was just Rachel who saw the struggle, maybe everyone else just got to see the masterpiece of the ice queen. "But for the last couple of months, I just wasn't into sex – at all. It was just that we were so different. And then some of it was because I was depressed, and some of it was because he wanted us to have kids and I have a hard enough time taking care of myself." She rolled those hazel eyes as if it was nothing, though Rachel could only imagine that it was everything. "And some of it was also because I just wasn't that into guys anymore, physically." Quinn swallowed hard and looked away before meeting Rachel's bewildered eyes again "I don't think that makes me a criminal. Anyway. One night after dinner, he drove to Victoria Secret at the Kingham Lima Mall, and got some lingerie to get something going. And on the way back he stopped at 76 to help a guy with a flat tire, and got hit by a car, and killed." For a split second Rachel thought she could hear Quinn's choke up a little, or perhaps that was just herself. Another deep silence followed. "The Victoria Secret box was still in the front seat." She finished staring right at Rachel. Rachel wasn't sure if it was the bitter sadness of the story, the devastating way that Quinn told it through blunt strength or what was left of their marriage, but either way she knew that she could cry any second even though she kept her composure. "_That's_ a feeling" Quinn finished with a glare, leaving Rachel speechless. She couldn't say anything, nothing of that situation was worthy of words. Quinn Fabray had been stripped of the one person she'd loved and was guilt ridden for the rest of eternity, and no matter what anyone would say that wouldn't bring him back to her and it wouldn't make her feel any less guilty.

"Quinn.." Rachel managed as the blonde turned away from her and did what looked to be some sort of dance stretch.  
"Let's try it again" But this time Quinn didn't go back to the corner of the room, she went over to the small speaker and plugged in ipod that Rachel hadn't noticed when she'd stepped into the room.  
"Quinn no, please, no don't turn it on."  
"Excuse me?"  
"The music – I really would appreciate if we could just have no music until the actual performance that would be great. It's just that, I don't like music." She shook her head abruptly as she tried to be calm throughout her pleads, but Quinn just raised a suspicious eyebrow and returned to Rachel's side.  
"You don't like music? Because that's stupid, you need to dance to the music. You need to practice to the music."  
"I understand that it's just" Rachel shook her head as she felt her emotions reach to a new high, it was as if she was the same old Rachel she was in high school. Selfish, emotionally unbalanced, and desperately wanting to get her way. Of course it was all different now. "Could we do it tomorrow? The music. Just no music for today" if Rachel had to be an ostrich and stick her head in the sand to survive today, that's what she would do. She had no idea how she'd even manage tomorrow, but Quinn apprehensively shrugged in agreement which was enough for Rachel. She sighed in relief even though she knew this wasn't the end of it, it was just the beginning. The problem wouldn't only be getting over her fear of melodies; it would be explaining it all to Quinn. She'd think she was weak, stupid, and more importantly – crazy. Finn couldn't find out the way she felt about music, she had to fix herself before that. Maybe that was the only part he actually liked about her – the musical part. If he knew that the one thing that had brought them together was no longer a part of her life, well, Rachel thought he'd hate her forever.

"So I'm going to teach you the waltz now, okay?" Quinn said as she moved behind Rachel and placed her hands on her shoulders from behind.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Taking off this stupid jacket, you'll get too hot." She explained, sliding the heavy material off Rachel to reveal a simple vest that matched the blonde's own. Rachel caught sight of her bare skin in the reflection of the mirror and felt unsure about it, mostly because it was in such close proximity with Quinn's own. "Don't wear that again" Quinn softly said with a smirk playing up on her warm peach lips. She came to stand in front of Rachel and nodded as she examined their heights and where the hand positioning would go. Instantly she moved her palm to Rachel's waist, causing all the muscles of that region to instinctively tighten and contract at the girls touch. "Relax" Quinn commented, placing her other palm up open in the air in a cupped position. She moved her gaze from Rachel's eyes to her hand implying she should place it there. But Rachel couldn't focus, not when it felt like Quinn was pushing a lightning bolt from her waist straight to her heart.  
"You want me to.."  
"Put it there, just gently rest it. Then your other hand goes on my shoulder" she explained, but nothing was coherent to Rachel when Quinn's hand was still lightly pressured to her waist. For some reason Rachel's own expression seemed to amuse Quinn. As she tried to do as the blonde told her she just got confused and pulled away disappointed, a frustrated raspy breath leaving her lips.  
"I can't, not like you can at least."  
"Look, I'll show you – you put your hand here, we'll swap for a second" Quinn's eyes guided Rachel's to her own waist. But since the brunette didn't move, Quinn's hand cupped hers as she brought it to her touch with slight force. "Just put it there, and this time I'll put my hand in yours" she demonstrated and Rachel followed, intoxicatingly entranced by the sensation of her hand on Quinn's body. "I'm going to hum, don't laugh."  
"Hum?"  
"Yes hum, you know what that is right?" Quinn teased sarcastically as Rachel tried to remain calm. Slowly she nodded; maybe this was the best way to get through it – with baby steps. When Rachel's hands were finally in the right place, and Quinn's returned to her waist, a slow and gentle melody came from the blonde, accompanied with the odd "one, two, three" to keep the rhythm. Rachel was so busy following each and every one of Quinn's steps in order not to mess up that she didn't even mind the soft beat that guided them, not when it came from that blonde at least.

They danced all right through the evening and into the early night. Side by side in the silence they moved and practiced in a comfortable seclusion of just the two of them. Sometimes they would stop and Quinn would place her hand on Rachel's back to straighten her posture, other times Rachel would request a break to catch her breath, but every time they returned. One, two, threes, carried them all the way until 9pm where Mrs Fabray came in and asked if they wanted anything to eat. Rachel politely declined and after an hour excused herself too, every muscle in her body aching from today's practice. She agreed to come tomorrow and the day after that, and every day past that as well. And she did. Every day she would come in the morning right through to the evening, and every day she would postpone the music – which to her shock, Quinn hesitantly allowed. Now Mrs Fabray's regular snacks and meals were accustomed, and she even started to call her Judy. Rachel would go straight in the morning with only hello's to her father and come straight back at night with no energy to do any plan Finn, only to collapse on her bed and sleep. As each day went past she became better and better. Quinn taught her each move to precision, showed her how twirl and how to jump, taught her how to really dance. With each collapse and failure they would laugh, and with every triumphant and successful run through they would jump in ecstatic joy. They shared oreos in the most pragmatic ways, and stretched routinely using the new ballet bar that Mr Fabray had installed by the end of the first week. LeRoy and Hiram had noticed Rachel's absences but hadn't remarked anything since they'd notice her smile too. This one less frantic, and almost natural. The girls would watch videos of dance moves online (on mute) and then orchestrate them themselves, giving their all every rehearsal and managing to smile through it too. Sometimes. The smiling was accompanied with groans and moans, mostly from Rachel, and the odd insult from Quinn. One time Rachel had used the bathroom upstairs and came back down to see Quinn changing her top. She only saw her back, but it was enough to make her run the whole way home and claim it was an emergency. She didn't sleep a wink that night. But she made it back in the morning, and she tried to concentrate on things behind the smooth line of Quinn's slender back, and instead work on her toe heel tap.

This Wednesday was their tenth dance rehearsal and Rachel was as ready as every other day the past week. As she rushed down the stairs in her now usual attire (just yoga trousers and a vest as Quinn had suggested - she thought about getting some ballet shoes just like hers but hadn't had the time to go online) LeRoy stopped her in the path.  
"Where are you going? Where are you always going" Her dad asked as nonchalantly as he could manage, but of course Rachel knew he was more than just interested. It was clear in his voice – he wasn't just nosy, he was worried. She'd over heard her father's speaking about her the previous night and it wasn't the first time. They thought it was something to do with Finn, and perhaps indirectly it was – but it was also something that Rachel didn't feel like sharing. For the most part, she was an adult, and she wanted to finally feel that way. She was tired about everyone having an opinion about her, especially on the matter of her getting better. Of course she wanted to get better, but she was tired of the universal opinion that she had to be "fixed". She wasn't some broken china doll that had been smashed and needed gluing back together. This was her own fault, she smashed herself, and maybe she was better off this way. These thoughts were usually stopped by the thought of Finn. The old Rachel wasn't good enough for him. Though she didn't like to admit it, the force that pulled her towards him somehow seemed to be a little less the last week. But when it came back it came with all its force, whipping her from any sense of reality and completely hypnotizing her with the idea of being Mrs Hudson. She had to be that person, there was no one else left for her to be.  
"Just out" Rachel defended, taking an apple as she exited the house that once belonged to a girl that looked a lot like her.

"Comic books stay out of this place!" Quinn declared to Rachel, holding one of Finn's favourite's in her right hand and angrily giving it a shake "And so does ice hockey rules" she added glaring at the other book in her left hand, both that made quite the exit through her front door even against Rachel's protests and complaints. They landed on her welcome mat with a hollow thump, only to have the door closed behind them and locking them out of Quinn's haven.  
"Did you seriously just throw those outside?" Rachel furiously yelled, hoping that they weren't damaged.  
"What? You're not going to read that shit on my time. I can tell you all about hockey games, you want to know the rules too? There's just two testosterone packed teams on ice that chuck around this black thing called the Puck until they get in the goals – which by the way are guarded by goalies – and they all shove each other around and get violent and there's no silver lining"  
"Wow that was actually a pretty great synopsis" Rachel replied, nodding as she took it all in, it was definitely quicker than reading the heavy manual. Her response came to Quinn's frustration, who in reply just threw up her arms in defeat accompanied with an eye roll for her wasted attempt of sarcasm. She hated that Rachel was still doing this Finn thing – he just wasn't worth it. She hated the fact Finn wanted her to change, she hated that Rachel was okay with that. There was nothing that Rachel needed to change about herself, not a single damn thing. Quinn quickly blinked the thought out of her mind as she returned her attention to perfectly imperfect annoying short girl in front of her. Just as Quinn was about to start Rachel onto some jazz there was a sound from her coat pocket as her phone rang. Rachel looked from it back to Quinn who arched her eyebrows as if to say if Rachel was really asking her permission. Quickly the brunette ran to answer as she perched down onto the floor.

"Dad?" Rachel said uneasily as she heard Hiram's voice on the other line, straight away she could tell that he was anxious which in turn just made her anxious. She looked up at Quinn for support but the girl kept her facade, it seemed like Rachel was on her own. The next few minutes included a lot of talking on her dad's behalf, and plenty of reluctant murmuring sounds from Rachel's side of the phone. She wasn't exactly surprised to hear that her father's wanted to have an urgent and formal family dinner tomorrow night, but neither did she particularly like the sound of the urgent part. Considering it wasn't a Jewish holiday, Rachel knew what awaited her at the table. Questions would be asked, and the right answers would have to be given. There was no way of getting out of it without setting off a million alarm bells that would force her back into that hospital. She had to go, no matter how much she loathed her dad's at that moment. The fact was that ever since the incident the way they treated her changed too, and maybe rightly so, but that didn't mean Rachel didn't hate it. It was like they were completely different people, and maybe since she was as well that was okay. Whatever the reasoning was, she missed her real dad's. They were probably some place better off with the real Rachel. Slowly the brunette hung up and steadied herself back up.

"So what did he want?"  
"They want to have dinner with me tomorrow"  
"Awesome" Quinn stated with a hint of sarcasm before she slithered round to retrieve some of the notes she'd written for the dance. Rachel's silence made her worried and as she cocked her head up the other girl's expression just confirmed that. "That's not all there is, is it."  
"Quinn, please understand that these dinners – they're more of an all day thing" Rachel reasoned as she quickly paced herself across the room to meet the other girl. "I'll have to spend most of the day with them, so is it okay if I spend half the day with you and half the day with them?" she knew it was inevitable since it really wasn't just the dinner. Tomorrow would be the "make sure our young adult daughter was okay day" and rushing off mysteriously just wasn't going to cut it.  
"No." Quinn stated. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just ask me that."  
"Why?"  
"These are the _two _days that you promised me you'd be here – so we can nail the big move. The two days that we can finally practice with music because of your stupid non-existing reason-"  
"They think I'm messed up Quinn, I have to prove them wrong. I need to get my Rachel ju-ju back."  
"So wait, I messed up the Rachel ju-ju?"  
"No you didn't mess up the ju-ju, I did. Which is why I have to show them that I'm fine."  
"Are you fine?"  
"Quinn.."

But Quinn didn't wait for a reply, her whole mannerism changed in that way which indicated Rachel that she was done talking about something and very much ready to abruptly leap onto another topic. Nothing could prepare Rachel for the words that were about to leave Quinn's perfectly shaped lips.

"Guess what" The blonde began, holding the gaze "Finn replied to your letter." As she remained to hold her look with Rachel's she smoothly glided to the staircase where her slender hand darted with black nail polish removed a thin envelope from in between the banister, teasingly she kept it in her hand. As Rachel made an almost leap towards it Quinn retracted it immediately "But you can't read it – until we nail the big move."  
"Quinn no, I won't be able to think of anything else and I just really need to read it and see what he said and please" but before Rachel needed to say another pleading word Quinn shrugged bluntly and carelessly presented the letter in front of Rachel's reach.  
"I just hope you can handle it" Quinn added with a silent sigh and an apprehensive look.  
"Thank you" Rachel took it from her with a slight shaking in her hand "What was his energy like when he gave it to you?"  
"He was...intrigued, excited and – well a little scared."  
"He was scared about it?" Rachel slowly asked, a smile glazing onto her expression as her eyes filled with hope. But she couldn't wait for Quinn to say anything else, not with the letter in her hand. The letter from Finn. The letter that he willingly wrote to her which meant something. The letter that meant that he was making an effort too, that this somehow just wasn't a crazy idea and that maybe he wanted her back to. The letter was hope, it was confirmation, it was a piece of him that she'd long waited and craved for. She ripped the envelope in anticipation as she couldn't help but beam as soon as she was met with his favourite typed font, comic sans. She was so hooked to what she was about to read that she ignored Quinn's comment about trying to stay positive and went straight into it. "I'm going to read it aloud, okay, just in case?" Rachel quickly added as her smile dropped, what if the letter just said it was over? Could she really handle that? Quinn nodded in support and Rachel's excitement was replaced with deadly fear and sadness. The What if's destroyed her mind, pecked at her happiness and slaughtered any remaining strength she had. She had to read it, she had to put herself out of this misery.

She took in a deep breath, gave Quinn a look, and started to read.

"Dear Rachel" she cleared her throat as she began, already imagining the words coming from his familiar mouth.

"It was very emotional to get your letter, as you can imagine. But I appreciate that you got it to me through Quinn. This gives us a chance to communicate whilst I keep the restraining order until I feel safe." Rachel's voice crackled a little as she read the words and knew what they meant; unsurely she looked over to Quinn whose eyes signalled for her to continue. They had so much faith in her that somehow she managed to.  
"You sound great, and I'm happy that you're becoming so positive and becoming a more selfless and caring girl that I always knew you were. I was really moved by your idea of excelsior and becoming a better person, as well as you reading the comic books I like. I also liked how you're learning more about hockey, and no longer thinking its just two guys throwing around a thing called a puck. Even with all your improvement's Rachel, if it's me reading the signs - I need to see something in order to think about our relationship. Maybe if it's just better if we move on with our lives separately. Take time to think about that. I'm glad you're doing so amazing, love from Finn"

Rachel closed over the sheet of paper just in time for the solemn tear cascading its way silently down her cheek to reach the edge of her chin. Quinn looked at her in complete dismay, sadness in her own eyes, but for once Rachel didn't find comfort in them.

"I think I'm done for today" Rachel mumbled as she retracted her coat and started for the door, only to be stopped by Quinn's soothing tone.

"He said to show him something, Rach. This dance, this could be that something. You would have never have done this sort of thing, it shows so many skills on so many different levels. Focus, calibration, discipline." As Rachel listened to her words she remained faced away from her, stroking the tears away with the corner of her top. Some part of her didn't want Quinn to stop talking no matter how hollow she felt in that moment. "It's romantic, like I said it would be. It's for him."

With a sigh Rachel turned around and looked at Quinn, not managing a smile but just a look that said enough. "Thanks for the letter. I'll see you tomorrow" she muttered before exiting and closing the door behind her.

This time it was Quinn that was left all alone, making it abundantly clear to the independent blonde just how much she immediately missed those warm brown eyes.


	11. The Berry Bet

A little more Faberry angst to get the plot going. So you'll find out more about the Berry's in this one as well as why they've been acting so strange. Also, there's a slight plot twist at the end. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Rachel? You got a letter." Leroy's voice fell up the stairs and right in Rachel's room, awakening her from a deep slumber. To her utmost panic the clock read that it was already 2pm. Not only had she completely missed her morning rehearsal with Quinn, but all reality seemed to hit you that much harder when you woke up later – or so Rachel thought. Every heavy thought that she'd gone to bed with was just that much heavier in the morning, as if sleep had only given it time to fester and grow unlike the promised saying 'just sleep on it'. She vowed to never sleep on it again, this time she only had more questions. Lethargically she yanked herself from her sheets and made the fateful journey down to the landing where she lazily took away the flapping white envelope that Hiram presented with almost mournful eyes. Perching on the stairs she waited for her dad to leave, which in hindsight was probably one of those reasons for their suspicion, and tore the envelope open in every way possible. Down the stairs floated a meek and scribbled on yellow post-it note. When Rachel got a closer look she realised there were only two words on it, two words scribbled in an unfamiliar scroll that read "Rehearsal's off."

The full stop tore into Rachel a little. She knew she should just shove the note into the bin along with the envelope but something made her slip it into her pyjama trouser pocket. She wondered when Quinn had delivered it, since timing was everything. Was it right in the morning to save Rachel the effort of getting up after yesterday's blow? This option was a little intimidating since that also meant Rachel had to presume that Quinn actually felt bad about yesterday – and even though every way that she had acted pointed to that conclusion, Rachel just wasn't ready to make the leap. The other one was that she dropped it over when she realized that logically there was no point to a rehearsal with only one hour or so to go. It was probably the second one, and the pressure applied to the full stop confirmed that to Rachel.

As Rachel trudged down the stairs with a deep sense of confusion she was met with two pairs of worried eyes that had manoeuvred themselves into casual positions by the kitchen. Leroy on the table with a book, and Hiram by the kettle. But there was nothing unsuspicious about them at all, and their expressions made Rachel sick to her stomach. Would it always be like this? Would she constantly have to smile so they didn't ask her about her medicine? And what if she smiled too much? She would be living a tight rope of keeping her parents happy just so she could live an ounce of a normal life. However, their expressions didn't alter too much when she arrived, making Rachel think that there was more to the story than just her. There was another problem.

"So...is the dinner still on?" Rachel asked before taking a chunk out of the apple she'd acquired from the fruit bowl. She already knew the answer, of course it was. The statement was just more of an ice breaker, something she'd never really had to do in her family before. Something that considering how already shattered they'd become, she wished she'd never have to do again either. The two dad's looked at each other apprehensively as to confirm before finally nodding.

"Yes, yes it is" Hiram began, pouring himself a cup of coffee before making his husband one too. As he gave Leroy the other cup he looked down at him as if to prompt him to say something.  
"It's still on but there's going to be another guest, Rachel" Leroy confirmed in a practiced tone. Curiously Rachel positioned herself in the seat opposite them two at the breakfast table and put her apple down. Finishing her chew she decided there was no point hiding the confusion that plastered itself onto her face.  
"Who?" She asked abruptly. Again the couple nervously looked at each other.

"Randy, you know Randy right?" Hiram continued after a nervous sip of coffee, but Rachel didn't care about their stance anymore – she was too shocked about the other guest. Randy had been an old family friend of theirs, but that didn't mean he was a friend at all. Actually, everyone in the Berry family sort of loathed him. He was one of those characters that they weren't really sure how they came to know, neither did they know how to get rid of him though. He was a little older than both the men, incredibly grumpy, and always had something negative to say about anything. Rachel couldn't bear the thought of Randy seeing her insight of recent events; she knew that he'd just tear her apart. Randy had a way of inviting himself over for not only dinners, but plenty of movie nights – and in a strange way the family grew closer to the old and lonely jerk. Rachel had picked up her own theory a few years ago after a marathon of Keeping Up With the Kardashians, Randy was about as straight as a rainbow. But he also pretended to be incredibly conservative. With his receding hairline, extensive collection of checked shirts and bow ties and honest tongue – it was more of a challenge saying no to him than it was to say yes. All things considered, she still didn't fully understand why he was coming over with what seemed like absolutely no protest from her father's. She waited for an explanation with widened eyes but both of them remained annoyingly sketchy. If their idea of fair was that they were allowed to keep secrets and Rachel wasn't, then Rachel could definitely get something out of this situation too – especially after all she'd sacrificed. She could feel the minute weight of the note in her pocket as an idea, a potentially fatal one, sprung into her mind.

"Fine." She said standing up. "Then I get to bring someone too." She didn't wait for an answer but simply exited the kitchen with as much stature as she could manage.

* * *

Inviting Quinn over was a deadly risk. Rachel remembered the last time they had dinner together at Santana's house and dreaded the possibility of that happening again. If Quinn's idea of small talk was chatting about antidepressants then Rachel would definitely not be seeing the light of day anytime soon. There were also plenty of other potentials problems linked with inviting Quinn, one of the more obvious ones being her dress sense. She couldn't imagine her fathers, and now Randy's, reaction to the seductive Grace Kelly that would stand at their door. Nevertheless, the only thing worse than inviting Quinn over for dinner was not having her there. Partially because Rachel didn't want to face her parents and Randy alone, but also because whenever Quinn was around there was a side to Rachel that came out to play. A side that she really hoped to be the real one. Selfishly, it wasn't just Quinn that Rachel had begun to like – it was what Quinn made her too. As soon as she started to think about that wild blonde hair and captivating smile she just knew that the only possible way that she would survive tonight's ordeal was by having her by her side. It was worth the risk to have her. Slowly Rachel retracted her phone from her bag and scrolled down to the numbers, eventually she was met with the simple letter "Q" which brought her back to a memory where the blonde refused to type unnecessary letters into the phone. Q was simple, and to the point. And considering Rachel only had three other numbers on there, it wasn't exactly hard to know what Q stood for. As the phone rang Rachel could feel her heart slowly creep its way up right to her throat.

"Hi" A snappy voice answered. _Her _snappy voice.  
"Quinn it's Rachel."  
"I know. I have caller ID." There was a pause. "So do you want something?"  
"No." Rachel blurted out without a thought, a hastened breath filling her lungs as she retracted her comment. "I mean yes. What I mean is, what are you doing tonight?"  
"Not having raisin bran at your dad's house that's for sure."  
"Please come."  
"I can't I'm busy."  
"Doing what?"  
"I'm just busy, Rachel. Just like you were this morning."  
"I wanted to apologise for that" Rachel began hesitantly, waiting for Quinn to tell her whether she'd dropped it in the morning or in the afternoon. That was probably yet another mystery about Quinn Fabray that Rachel would just have to deal with, she didn't exactly have another option. "But please come to dinner" She added again, a little more persistently. Once more there was a silence on the other line, but not a complete one – she could still hear the faint sound of Quinn's breath. But as Rachel counted to five once more there was still no answer. "It starts at seven, if you want to come – you know where I live." She put the phone down without waiting for a reply, if Quinn wanted to act this way then Rachel could to. This way it still meant there was a possibility of her showing up. There was still hope. But Rachel's minute happiness was destroyed by the sound of her dad's arguing downstairs. Though the temptation to go downstairs and find out exactly what was happening presented itself, there was another option that seemed to be a lot more inviting. The softness of her duvet called to her, the comfort of her pillow teased her in, and the promise of drifting off until six pm with the last thing in her mind being Quinn's voice seemed like the best option there was. When she got downstairs Quinn would either be there, or she wouldn't. That was it. And living with the truth was just part of life. Dr Brown had tried to make Rachel realize that for a long time, but Quinn had cut to the chase in a two minute phone call. Expectations always exceeded reality. Quinn Fabray being the only exception to that.

* * *

The second time that Rachel woke up that day was different. For starters, it was completely dark outside and her clock read six thirty. And secondly, her mood was both different yet indescribable. Rachel had no idea how she was feeling. Every emotion in the human spectrum fought to conquer her expression but simply left Rachel with a blunt haze of confusion and an absent smile. She wasn't sure if it was possible to be sad and happy at the same time, but also knew that she didn't have much choice on the matter either. She nervously checked outside to see whether another car had pulled up to join her father's – hoping it was Quinn's and dreading it was Randy's, but Rachel was met with nothing. Quickly she got dressed in a plain sleeveless navy dress that stopped at her knees. She accompanied it simply with a white cardigan and decided that her slippers would do for shoes. The idea of dressing up just to go downstairs was a mountain that she had no desire to climb. She did however brush her hair into a smooth wave and apply a little makeup, just in case Quinn was coming. The blonde had seen her sweaty and tired a little too regularly that week, so Rachel thought a little blush and mascara wouldn't exactly hurt anyone. By the time the clock read five minutes to seven and Rachel heard voices she knew it was show time – metaphorically speaking.

Of course it was Randy. Rachel regretted ever hoping that Quinn would arrive five minutes early when she was met with the sight of a peculiarly happy looking man in a colour co-ordinated red suit, and of course, matching bow tie. Rachel wasn't sure what was more surprising, the fact that the old geezer who had a permanent smile was beaming, or the fact that her father's weren't even trying to pretend to be happy. Maybe whilst she was gone the relationship between the three of them changed, but that too was unlikely even if Rachel did feel like everything had changed. Once the group noticed Rachel's appearance her dad's stole the show from Randy's reaction. They looked at her like they used to before curtain call on opening night. It was the same gaze they had when they stood up for her standing ovations. It was the exact same expression that had made a permanent residence on their faces every time Rachel told them she got a solo or a leading role. They were proud. And all because of a little effort and on-time arrival.

"Hi Randy" Rachel democratically greeted him, deciding not to resist the strange action of him pulling her into a crushing hug. Luckily it wasn't too crushing since he wasn't an inch taller than herself, but it did make his signature smell of bourbon and honey roast ham just that little bit more pungent in her nose.  
"You're looking great, Rachel!" The rather plump Jewish man exclaimed, his rosy cheeks still beaming. It was as if every smile sent Rachel's dad's into another sulk, and she was more than curious as to find out why. The questions would have to wait as they made their way into the decorated dining room. As always Leroy had done a great job with the presentations, and Rachel just hoped that Hiram's cooking was up to scratch for the guests. Those thoughts took second place to the two main ones that festered in Rachel's mind – the curious behaviour of a once grumpy man and the disappearance of an enigmatic blonde. It seemed like maybe Quinn wasn't coming after all, so Rachel decided to focus on the first problem at hand. Once they were all seated and munching over bread and canapés, Rachel took her lead.

"First off I'd like to clarify that I've got a problem and no filter" she bluntly said to Randy, causing Leroy to subtly face-palm next at the head of the table. Even Randy looked a little surprised, though it didn't stop him from enjoying his butter slathered bread. He chewed and shrugged perpetually.  
"Well I always thought you were a little too uptight back then" he chuckled, to the judging eyes of Hiram next to him. "But continue, what's up short-stack?"  
"Well" Rachel cleared her throat, addressing the entire table this time. She looked over to the empty seat next to her for support but of course Quinn wasn't there. "I deserve an explanation. What's going on? Why are you so happy?" She demanded from Randy before looking from one dad to the other "and why are you so, well, not?" Rachel was proud of her fairly well constructed sentence, but whatever reaction she had hoped for definitely didn't match to the reality of what was to come. Randy began belting out a deep and growling laugh, followed by both her dad's beginning to look shamefully regretful.  
"They didn't tell you?!" Randy exclaimed, reclining on the wooden seat with force, still chuckling away to himself. Clearly the question was rhetorical as the rumble of a deep breath he took next hinted to Rachel she was about to find out. "Your fathers bet against me on the dancing with the stars finale. And yesterday, they lost!" another belting roar of laughter suffocated the small man but Rachel was too angry to care about his joy from winning. The show had always been a family thing to watch; in fact it was almost compulsory for Rachel to watch it with her dad's. They called her their good luck charm. Maybe it was superstition, but (Leroy especially) believed that with Rachel watching with them their favourite couple had to win. Of course perhaps they had reason for their confidence, it was miraculously true. Every time that Rachel had watched a finale with them the couple they wanted had won. She didn't realise that the finale was yesterday, nor did she register that it could have been the reason for her parent's behaviour. The fact was that Leroy had always been like this, he just called it his special habit. Whether it was collecting envelopes, making Rachel watch certain shows, or having the remote controls a certain way – Leroy believed in luck. When Rachel was ten the doctor declared it to be OCD, but he kept it under control mostly. She couldn't help but feel guilty at the possibility of her problem making it all worse. But now her dad's had gone and lost a bet for god knows how much money, and Randy was probably rolling in it. She wanted to scream at them and question them for being so stupid, but with her track record Rachel didn't really think that she was in the position to talk about practical decisions. It all made sense now.

"Please tell me you didn't?" Rachel asked still in shock, looking at both her dad's. It was clear by their expressions, as well as a very rich Randy's, that they had. Before Rachel could dare to ask how much there was a knock at the door. Quinn's timing was a disaster. Still fuming, Rachel slid from the table and marched to the front door where she opened it to find the familiar blonde. With her signature black trench she had an expression that matched Rachel's. From behind her Rachel could hear Randy and her dad's arguing yet again – the night was an inevitable disaster. It had supposedly began to prove that Rachel was okay but all it really had done was just highlight how crazy her family was. Rachel pressed herself to the open door and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a shallow breath as she plucked up the stance to address Quinn.

* * *

"What do you want?" Rachel sharply asked as the complaints behind her grew louder.  
"I'm here for dinner. What the hell's happening?" she demanded trying to see past Rachel at the chaos behind her.  
"Well you can't, not anymore, Quinn could you please just leave?" this time Rachel had to raise her voice for it to over shadow the ones that grew behind her. Looking at Quinn she saw that same spark and knew there wasn't a chance in hell for the girl to say okay and turn back into the night.  
"No. I'm coming in because unlike you when I make a serious commitment to someone I stick to it" the blonde barked back, matching Rachel's volume and tone. Something in the dining room calmed down as the conversation between the girls intensified.  
"I told you I was sorry, okay?"  
"Well sorry doesn't cut it, and I let you slack off this morning because of that stupid letter but now what? I'm not even allowed inside?" Quinn didn't wait for a reply as she barged through and Rachel flung her hands out in desperation, bluntly letting the door snap shut behind them. "You need to do some serious thinking about commitments Rachel, because you committed to me to get something in return so don't you dare think that you're getting out of tomorrow, got it?"  
"_Fine." _Rachel snapped back as she fled to the dining room in attempt to refrain throwing a tantrum.

"Who the hell is this?" Randy asked, his beady eyes focusing on Quinn's with an expression of complete wonder. Leroy and Hiram looked just as taken back but the blonde didn't answer Randy, she just turned her attention right back to Rachel.  
"Oh that's great, you didn't even tell them I was coming, did you?" she asked mockingly, her eyebrows prancing up to make her point.  
"I said I was bringing a guest, they don't even know you!" Rachel came back at the same force before her parents decided to join in.  
"That's right we don't even know her" Leroy mumbled after a sip of wine. Quinn swung around and looked at them all.  
"I'm Quinn by the way" she mentioned briefly, instantaneously returning her attention back to her brunette after Randy gave a brief nod of acknowledgment combined with Leroy's one of acceptance, his expression indicating he was much too absorbed with the guilt of blowing the money than to fight. Hiram had another idea.  
"What's all this craziness with Quinn Fabray?" Hiram questioned Rachel, standing up from his seat to look her in the eye. Of course Hiram had heard about Quinn, everyone in Lima had heard about Quinn. She wasn't only known for being Sammy's widow, but for also being downright crazy. Frustrated Rachel darted her attention from Quinn to her dad before reaching a breaking point.

"It's not craziness – we've just been dancing, that's our thing, we've been dancing okay?" Randy looked amused which was a sharp contrast to the angry Quinn which mirrored a fuming Hiram, all complemented by a very confused Leroy.  
"Dancing? This is nuts, Rachel, you don't dance. It just all started falling apart when you started spending time with her" Hiram continued with all force, worry seeping into his every attempt to reason with his daughter. But Quinn Fabray had something else in mind.  
"You think I fucked up all the dancing with the star's ju-ju don't you?" The blonde demanded, causing Leroy to sink lower in his seat from embarrassment. Randy's eyes widened with entertainment as if he was in a circus as they all wondered how Quinn knew about it. Especially Rachel. "Randy told my mom" Quinn briefly mentioned to Rachel who nodded. The blonde snapped her attention back at the standing man.  
"It's just ever since, ever since she was with you –" Hiram shrugged as if it all made sense. Of course none of it didn't, the Berry family had fallen apart. Looking over to Leroy, the orchestrator of the bet who was attempting to concentrate on the canapés in front of him instead of at the fight surrounding him, Hiram shook his head disappointedly.  
"You think that _I'm _the reason why this has all happened?" the blonde exclaimed to Hiram.  
"That's right."  
"_I'm _the reason?" Quinn repeated, leaving Rachel's side to come further towards the centre of the room. "Let's talk about that." The girl began, eccentric hand gestures soon coming into play once again. Rachel held her breath as she watched; even Leroy picked his head up from his gloom of shame. "Jess and Michael, that's your couple right?" the blonde questioned already knowing the answer, everyone in the room nodded. "The first night that Rachel and I met at my brothers, Jess and Michael perform the Argentina tango and get straight nines – sweeping the competition." As Quinn spoke with confidence there was no denying that everyone was clinging to her every word. She was right. Leroy nodded as he recalled the score himself and realised that Quinn was absolutely right. In fact, her recollection was perfect.  
"The second time we met up we went for a run, Jess and Michael came second with the foxtrot but Louise and James forfeited for malpractice and they took the win." Hiram's eyes widened with astonishment as Randy whispered a few 'she's right' to himself as he enjoyed the salmon patties on offer.  
"The third time we got together we had raisin bran at the diner, and the couple _dominated _the competition and once again got the highest scores." Quinn continued furiously.  
"Wait let me think about that..."Leroy joined, counting on his fingers and confirming everything that the vivacious blonde had just said. Rachel watched in astonishment as Hiram pressed his lips together and solemnly nodded.  
"Well then think about this, where do you think Rachel was when the extra footage of Jess and Michael perfecting the flying eagle reached the web and the judges gave a standing ovation just for the video?"  
"She was with you?" Randy picked up, astonishment still stitched onto his face.  
"Yes. And you know what, there haven't been anymore performances since Rachel and I've been together this week, but she left early yesterday during the airing of the finale – so maybe, just maybe if she was with me then your precious couple would have won."  
"She makes sense, Hiram. She makes sense" Randy pointed out with a slow applause, but Quinn wasn't about to take a bow anytime soon.  
"And it's not like I give a _fuck_ about that stupid show, or your crazy superstition, but it if its me reading the signs then I really don't think you can blame this on Rachel and I spending time together. Okay?"  
"Quinn...how did you know all that stuff?" Rachel asked meekly before Quinn picked up a glass of untouched wine from the table.  
"I did my research." She declared with a gallant sip.  
"I've got to say I'm impressed" Hiram said as Leroy set down and nodded in agreement. "I didn't like her before, but now I do."

* * *

A silence filled the room as the heat of the argument subsided. To everyone's surprise, Randy gave a familiar sigh that Rachel hadn't heard for much too long.  
"Leroy, I feel terrible" the man began with a shrug "We made a bet, I won a lot of money – and now look, your whole family is in ruins." As Rachel listened to the man's words and looked around it was true. Her fathers had definitely lost the plot. Quinn and her were probably the most normal people in the room. Rachel was almost touched by Randy's comment, but the blonde next to her as per usual disagreed.  
"Oh fuck off Randy, you _love _it, you live off this shit – you've been betting off my father for years."  
"That's not true!" the plump man defended pretentiously.  
"You're just twisting the knife, prove it then?" Quinn continued, pushing him further.  
"That's not true" Randy retorted again, unwilling to do what the blonde was asking.  
"Prove it!"  
"How do you want me to prove it?" He asked in that familiar grumpy drawl, looking from Quinn to Rachel to the men flanking both sides of him. Quinn straightened up and stared straight at the man.  
"By giving them the chance to win back everything. Double or nothing."  
"No no no no _no_" Rachel blurted, her hands waving in disagreement to Quinn's propositions.  
"Double or nothing on the next season of the Dancing with the stars, is that what you're saying?" Randy asked, motioning with his hands. Quinn took another sip of the dark red liquid and shook her head, placing it down and taking time to say the words on the tip of her tongue.  
"No. The Benjamin Franklin Hotel free style pair dance competition."  
"I do like the sound of that." Randy smirked. "Continue?" Rachel tried to stop it but her protests were useless and her father's were too busy concentrating on potentially regaining their life insurance to listen.  
"Don't do it." Rachel begged her father's. "This is toxic, all this betting and superstition"  
"Rachel, how do they score it? This dance thing?" Randy interrupted the brunette just fuelling her anger.  
"I don't know how they score it! We're just participating, we're not a part of it – do not base the bet on this Randy, we're not professionals, we're-" Quinn stole Rachel's words as she informed the crowd of what they wanted to hear.  
"They go by the Ohio state dance rules. Each dance pair are scored on a scale of one to ten, ten being the best. You have to average the four judges score's, it's just like your stupid show."  
"Okay. A score of one to ten." Randy reasoned, furrowing his brows as he thought it all over. "And you guys are how good?"  
"We suck" Rachel interjected honestly.  
"We don't _suck_" Quinn defended, glaring at Rachel before looking back at Randy. "Rachel's a beginner, I'm okay – we're lucky just to be going there."  
"And what about the people you're competing with?" Randy continued, growing more and more interested.  
"They're good" The blonde explained plainly.  
"Better than you?" Randy persisted again and Quinn didn't answer, but Rachel nodded silently causing the blonde to eye roll. "So if I were to say you only had to score five, that would be me being very very generous, right?" the balding man suggested.  
"No! That would be amazing if we got five –" Rachel bargained in protest of the suggestion, only to be met with Quinn's roars of how they could definitely get that number and she should have a little more faith. Leroy ran a stressed hand through his hair whilst Hiram cleaned his steamed up glasses. Suddenly Leroy presented his hand to Randy to the disgust of Rachel and shook it.

"I'm shaking it on it" He said after the action, mostly to his husband who agreed with a solemn nod but also to confirm to everyone else. If Rachel and Quinn got a five or above, all their money would be returned. Slowly he looked over at Rachel with a sympathetic expression and a sigh "I got us into this mess, Rachel, I'm getting us out. I believe in you." Leroy held his gaze before adjusting it to the striking blonde next to his daughter "both of you".

"No" Rachel exclaimed, moving towards the door but still looking at all the messed up people in the room. "I'm not going to be a part of this. You're a sickness, Randy" she pointed at him with a finger before swinging her attention round to her father's where she just said nothing.

"Rachel? You can't quit?" Quinn reminded.  
"I'm not doing the dance. I'm out." The brunette finished as she exited the room, but this time Quinn wasn't about to get left behind. Immediately she followed Rachel to the front door that the girl dared to open.  
"Just calm down, Rachel" she reasoned, but Rachel glared at her and started to move away. "Rachel you are not being the girl you want to be! If it's me reading the signs-"  
"You reading the signs?" She exclaimed, only to have Quinn repeat the same sentence louder. Rachel snapped the door closed behind her as she stepped out onto the night porch and was met with the hard and cold fresh air of Lima. It was exactly what she needed. All of it was too much back there, especially finding out about her dad's. They were meant to be normal, they were meant to be the sane and normal ones that didn't make impulsive bets. They were the ones that were meant to keep her safe and grounded and not put her into situations where she had so much pressure put on her. She didn't want to think of them as humans capable of mistakes. Rachel needed them to be invincible because she was broken.

* * *

Quinn returned to the dining room to find that Randy had left through the back door the bread basket with him. She wavered by the door frame as she listened to Hiram and Leroy talking. She heard Hiram telling Leroy that they pushed her too far and how if they'd only known all she was doing was dancing things were different. Leroy was nervous of her quitting not only because of the bet, but because of the progress that she'd made. Quinn knew there was a solution to it all. She saw the opportunity and she knew she had to take it. To both of their surprise she entered the room and their whispering ceased. Curiously they looked at the girl who now stood before them completely calm.

"There's only one way to get her to do the dance" Quinn declared quietly, immediately catching their attention.  
"And what's that?" Hiram asked with anticipation.  
"We have to tell her that Finn's going to be there"  
"But he won't come?" Leroy admitted reluctantly.  
"We have to tell her that he will" Hiram solemnly said catching on to Quinn's plan, only to have Leroy complain that would be a lie. "it's a white lie!" his husband reasoned and Quinn repeated the same sentence. Hiram continued with a deep breath "we have to leave a trail of bread crumbs so she can live her life without ruining it.."  
"We're going to have to do it" Quinn confirmed to both Rachel's parents. "It's a lie. But it's for the best."

The plan was set. They'd tell Rachel that was Finn was going to be there even if he wasn't and then she had to come. The Berry's would win the money back. Quinn would get to do her dance. Everything would work out.

* * *

Outside on the porch Rachel felt more alone than ever as the rain trickled in the darkness in front of her. It was colder than the weather channel had promised, but then again, everything felt like a lie. Slowly she retracted the only thing that didn't from her cardigan pocket. She didn't even remember placing it in there; it was probably a subconscious action that stemmed from her desire to keep something of Finn's close to her. As the rain drizzled onto the black tarmac, Rachel unfolded the letter with gently trembling hands, her lips pressing tightly together to stop her from crying as she reread the words that Finn had written to her.

Until she got to one sentence in particular.

She was so thrown off by it that she read the sentence again and again to make sure she wasn't just seeing it. But there, in clear black typed writing, were the very words that she swore she'd heard before from someone else's lips.

"If it's me reading the signs..." Rachel quietly read out to herself before realizing the thing that now seemed so obvious. Lost for words and with no found desire to even think, she shoved the letter back into her cardigan pocket and darted out onto the streets in her slippers and began to run through the rain.

He didn't write the letter.


	12. Ginger Snaps & Ballet Shoes

The chapters after this one are going to be focused on the actual performance as well as what comes afterwards, but I suspect there should be about five more or so to come. This chapter here is just a short one and a little bit of a filler, but I think it demonstrates how Rachel reacted to the whole situation as well as highlighting not only her improvements, but also a different side to the Q/R relationship that's a little less heated. I really wouldn't call it fluff, but I can proudly say that there's no swearing at each other in this one. Its much more slow paced than the previous chapter, eg. its length, but I really hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Rachel cracked upon the forest green door that morning to see Quinn laid out on the floor. With her legs stretching out in front of her it was as if she was a lifeless doll, but of course Rachel knew that in that moment each and every one of the blonde's muscles were contracted to get that perfect stretch. As the dewy morning light dappled warmly into the studio Quinn was a vision. The way that the sunlight brushed onto her complexion and highlighted her honey hair, Rachel couldn't help but have the desire to capture this moment forever. But that was the beauty of these kind of moments. If they were photographed, or even written down, it would lose the precious 'once' of it. This moment would only happen once and that's what made it so fragile and perfect – and as soon as Rachel acknowledged that, it was already gone.

"Hey" Quinn acknowledged, straightening up from her forward bend and flexing her ballet shoes. It was as if yesterday had never happened. Rachel realized a lot of things yesterday, some that she knew from the word go just didn't want to admit. But they were her things, and right now the only important issue was getting her parents money back and letting Quinn Fabray do her dance. Rachel came down by her side and tried to do as she did, bending forward until her back wouldn't let her go any lower.

"Sorry I'm late" Rachel managed to push through in her flex. Quinn lent forward again and told her it was fine in a tone that made Rachel think she didn't care or she was nervous. She knew it was the latter, she could _feel _it was the latter. Quinn always cared; she just had a complicated way of showing it. Rachel sighed as she saw that her trainer lace had come undone, but before she could reach – or attempt to reach – and tie it up, a pair of smooth fingers beat her to it. She looked up from her lashes to see Quinn doing them up for her. Somehow the way she tied them was better, even stronger. And just like that she returned to doing her stretches as if she hadn't just done a kind act for no apparent reason. Rachel wondered if there was ever going to be a day when Quinn wouldn't surprise her. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?" She asked the blonde, continuing a feeble attempt of stretching. She was better, but still not very good. Rachel really was dreading tomorrow.

"A little" Quinn admitted before bringing her legs in and sitting crossed legged. "We're going to have to do it to the music today." She explained without a slight hint of it being optional. Rachel could feel herself grow light headed even whilst sitting down on the floor. As she stood up and brushed herself off she looked down at Rachel in an expression that was as hard to read as a foreign Arabic scroll "you can tell me what's your issue with music or sound in general, or you could not – up to you. Either way, don't mess this up" the blonde finished as she made her way over to that speaker of doom. Rachel felt her entire body clench up as if she was about to get hit by a truck. She waited for the impact, she waited to hear the painful memories come back to her, but she didn't. All she heard was silence.  
"Actually no, screw that. Tell me. Is it to do with that song you keep hearing?" Quinn asked, her arms crossing over her tightly toned stomach. Rachel could see a stray blonde hair flicker across her forehead and if the situation had been different, she'd have the temptation to tuck it away. Nonetheless, she had a bigger problem on hand. Telling Quinn.  
"Yes and no" Rachel began with no sign of a tremble, something that made her already proud. She tried to read Quinn's expression but she just stared at her as if she was a cat. She had no choice to continue. "I used to sing. Actually, I used to sing very well. I probably still do it's just that I don't. I don't sing. Not anymore. Not after I screwed things up because of _that _song, which kind of makes me hate any song." She looked down at her perfectly tied trainer as she waited for Quinn to say anything. She would even prefer an insult right about now. Rachel could think of plenty for Quinn to use, it was almost too easy of a task. The poor songbird girlfriend, never to sing again because of a traumatic event. She hated the cliché that she had become, but also felt a little oddly optimistic about the fact she realized that now.

"Get up." Quinn told her with a wave of her hand, but Rachel remained seated in confusion. "Come on, get up. I can't have you freaking out whenever some jazz comes on so this is getting sorted out" the blonde explained and reluctantly Rachel stood up.  
"How are you going to fix me?" She asked Quinn a little nervously, but definitely curiously too.  
"I'm not going to _fix _you, are you stupid? You don't need fixing. You just need to be you, and this whole music thing is clearly stopping that" her hazel eyes rolled in rebellion of Rachel's life choices and the brunette concentrated on what Quinn had to offer.  
"So what, have you done this before or-"  
"Close your eyes." Quinn butted in and without asking why Rachel did as she was told, something that though she usually regretted with Quinn, potentially had a purpose. "Now you're going to sing. Only to yourself, and for no particular reason."  
"Quinn I can't!" Rachel protested, her eyes flashing open in panic only to be met with Quinn's sharp gaze that instructed them to immediately close back. Unwillingly her dark lashes fluttered close.  
"Sing happy birthday to me."  
"But it's not your birthday?"  
"It could be my birthday. You don't know that."  
"Is it your birthday?"  
"No, obviously not. Now sing." Quinn's instructions were clear and obvious; there was no way of getting out of it. She felt her heart began to race and the back of her neck burn up in that familiar rush of panic that had followed seconds before her downfall. Slowly she opened her heart shaped lips to have nothing come out. Silence. Just like that moment on stage. It was worse though, not only did nothing come out but it also felt like nothing was coming in. It was as if she'd forgotten how to breathe. Before Rachel could open her eyes and run as fast as she could out of the practice room the touch of a pair of soft hands steadied her own shaking ones. Her fingers interlocked with Quinn's, gripping onto the only thing that kept her grounded to that spot. Something in their touch told Rachel she could do it. Something in the way they squeezed hers promised it would be okay. Something about Quinn Fabray brought every part of Rachel that she thought she'd lost back. And before she could thank her something else came out – a perfectly pitched and tuned four syllable and two letter word – Happy Birthday. And after them came another two, and another two, and before Rachel could really appreciate it there she was belting the final note that she'd known since she was four years old. As she flickered her eyes open and beamed a smile she watched as Quinn smiled to. It was an almost held back smile though, as if she didn't want to show just how happy she was. The truth, as always, was in her eyes. That's where Quinn kept all her secret's and that's where the 'I'm proud of you' was hidden.

"You're good" Quinn brushed off as she quickly retracted her hands as if she hadn't just given Rachel the confidence to regain her one passion in life back. "Now come over here and give this a listen."

Rachel was amazed by the fact she just needed one push. She needed someone to push her off that cliff just as much as she needed them to hold her hand whilst they did so – Quinn had managed to do both. It was hard at first to listen to the collaboration of songs, but after a while she got used to melodies and greeted them as old friends. There was definitely something comforting about hearing instruments again. The idea of the painful memory still played around in the back of her mind, but whenever it threatened to take centre stage, all it took was one look at Quinn to shove it straight out of Rachel's thoughts. And she was right, it was better to practice this way. The whole day was spent practicing the entire routine from start to finish with no breaks in between. There were plenty of falls and out of step moves, and the 'big move' hadn't exactly been mastered up yet, but it would do. It had to do, to get that five. It seemed like time had a way of moving quicker when Rachel was with Quinn, and soon enough the indigo sky that lurked outside the windows told Rachel that she was probably better off getting a good night sleep and heading home. Taking a sip of the water that Judy had accompanied with some ginger biscuits, Rachel slipped on her coat and turned to Quinn.

"Nine again tomorrow morning?" She asked, the nerves of tomorrow stirring a little, but not enough to conquer the sense of achievement that she felt about today. She'd done it, sure Quinn had done it to, but she'd done it. She'd done it for herself.

"No, we need our rest – practice will just throw us off our game." Quinn went on, taking a sip of her own glass of water and tucking away that frivolous tendril that had captivated Rachel earlier on. "Are your dads still okay with dropping us to the competition?" she asked, and the brunette nodded in confirmation. "Well then I'll get to yours at five. Eat lunch but don't have anything heavy after that. You remember what I told you to wear right?"

"Yes" Rachel answered with a nod, she sure did - it was hard to forget.  
"Then good, I'll see you tomorrow and you better be ready. Those are for you by the way" the blonde mentioned as her eyes flickered nonchalantly over to a box in the corner. Quinn went about eating her ginger snaps as Rachel looked nervously from Quinn to the cardboard carrier. Hesitantly she made her way over to it and took it in her hands. Unwrapping the white tissue paper she stared at the present inside. There in her hands were two perfectly patent ballet shoes in the exact right size. Rachel's eyes gleamed from the shoes back at Quinn who looked about as enthralled as if she just got told she had a pop quiz. But Rachel didn't care if Quinn was holding up her strange bluntness, that wouldn't stop her from what she was about to do. Setting down the present she swiftly made her way to the girl before wrapping her arms around her in a tight but brief hug. Letting go she caught sight of those eyes and smiled at them appreciatively.  
"Thanks Quinn" Rachel said, receiving a half smile and a shrug in return.  
"You should go now."  
"I know."

Rachel ran all the way home with her shoes in her hands and a ghost of her smile on her face.


	13. Competition Part I

Dear readers,

Thank you for staying with me as the story progresses, I've really appreciated all the positive reviews and interest! So this chapter is bringing us into the actual competition event and will be split up into two or three parts, I haven't quite decided yet. It's definitely a fast paced scene at some points so I hope that's conveyed - and I also think it's a vital chapter in that it's very much a turning point in not only the Q/R relationship but also clarifies the character's development throughout the previous chapters. One character in particular may return to old ways and bad habits when put in a compromising situation. Anyway, enough rambling - there will be plenty of Q/R action in this as well as a few plot twists and I hope you like it.

Expect more explanation of Rachel's emotions in the chapters to come, it can be considered a little vague at the moment for a reason.

* * *

Darkness swept up Lima in one gallant sweep and before Rachel Berry knew it – it was time. There was a category of feelings that belonged to the moment she liked to call the 'pre'. They were the sort of feelings that were powerful enough to make you feel physically sick – an ache in your heart, a tremble in your knees, a turn of your stomach. Everything about these feelings set your body into chaos, and Rachel was no stranger to them before a performance. But in that moment, looking down at the dress that Quinn had told her to wear – there were no 'pre' feelings, there was just a calm aura that Rachel had never experienced before, making Rachel feel that the dancing shoes weren't the only gift that Quinn had given her.

Finn was going to be there. The news came as a surprise the previous night, but then again so was the enthusiasm in her dads' voice when they told her the news. This was it. Finn Hudson, the love of her life was going to be there. And Rachel had no idea how to feel about it but accept the fact. She knew she should feel differently about it, but she didn't. She didn't feel anything. She wanted to feel differently, wasn't his all for him? Wasn't everything she'd done these past months for him? It had to be, it had all made sense back then, before Quinn. Sure Finn made her feel bad about herself and didn't treat her that well and...Rachel stopped herself and settled for not knowing how to feel about the matter. That was a simple answer which stopped her questioning herself.

In less than an hour everything that she had been working towards would be drawn to a close with a ribbon on it. Her father's would either get their money back, or they wouldn't. Finn would either take her back or he wouldn't. Quinn would either run up to Rachel and hold her in her arms, or she wouldn't. Rachel had to think of this as blankly as she could – because if she didn't, she thought the 'pre' feelings might just be strong enough to swallow her up whole like a wave.

The dress was silk and the colour of a winter night sky. It was the sort of blue that made you want to curl up by the window and watch it from inside for the entire night – the kind of blue that was usually accompanied with shining stars, making it feel baron without it. The top of the dress was long sleeved and well fitted whilst the skirt trumpeted out to half way down Rachel's thigh, gliding and swooping elegantly down as it danced with a certain rhythm she imagined would come very handy during all the twists and turns of the dance. She wondered if Quinn would be wearing the same dress – and she really hoped so. Partially because she'd feel less self conscious, but more so because she wanted to see her in the dress – she thought it would do a greater justice to the other girls curves.

The entire morning had been spent under the strict instructions of the fiery blonde – and having slept enough, drunk enough, and eaten just the right amount, Rachel didn't think she could go too wrong with the make-up. It only took a few strokes before she was finished. Just in time to hear a knock on her door.

Her brown eyes darted to the clock that read five thirty. Ten minutes till they left the house. Half an hour until they signed in at the registration desk. A whole hour until it was time. Rachel's heart raced as her feet pounded against the plush carpet to reach her bedroom door, her heart already knowing who stood on the other side.

And there she was wrapped in blue. Her wild locks were tamed into a bun and her makeup showed both precision and patience, two aspects that had often been lacking in her usual vicarious attire. But as Quinn's eyes pierced through Rachel's, suddenly a feeling much stronger than the 'pre' took over the brunette. Quickly she stepped aside to let the girl in.

"Your dad's let me in" Quinn explained, looking around the room and not at Rachel. If it was possible to feel jealous of a wall, then Rachel definitely was. Quinn absorbed each detail like a sponge until her eyes settled back to Rachel's. "They're nice. You're lucky." She softly yet characteristically bluntly added. Slowly she came closer to Rachel who suddenly found comfort in looking down at her shoes that now matched Quinn's.

"We should get going?" Rachel prompted, question in her voice as she wanted Quinn to take charge. She wanted her to take charge of the whole situation – she wanted her to be the one to dance alone, her to fix this situation, her to fix everything. But they were in this together and there was no getting out of it.

Quinn seemed to be perplexed in an unusual silence compared to her usual judgmental commentary, which brought Rachel to an unnerving realization that the blonde before her was just as human as she was. It was so easy to forget that Quinn was human when everything that Rachel saw in front of her told her the opposite. With a face like that it was difficult to imagine that flaws existed. Quinn was a graceless and merciless creature that was as far from human that you could strain, but Rachel knew part of her was just denying the times that illusion had been shattered. Rachel tried to block out the times that Quinn had been vulnerable or scared or hurt, not because they ruined her idea of her but because they made her just that bit more likable. Likable was not the correct term. With a single nod the blonde yanked Rachel out of her trance of despair and started to head out of the door, only stopping when Rachel protested meekly that she hadn't done her hair. The brunette frantically returned to her vanity table where she plunked herself down on the seat and staring at the mirror tried to mimic something along the lines of the Grace Kelly chignon that Quinn so gracefully wore. As flops of brown hair latched out of the scrunchies grip, Rachel felt as if her hands were butter and there was no hope for her and her hair - that was until a different pair of hands joined her own.

As Rachel's eyes found Quinn's she could tell that the blonde was saying 'let me' in her own special way, but there was something too precious about the silence to break it. With the warm honey glow of her bedroom light above them, Quinn's fingers ran through Rachel's locks and artfully crossed them up into an unbreakable bun. As the tips of her fingers ghosted across the exposed bare skin of Rachel's neck the brunette shivered as a wave of anticipation cascaded its way down her spine from the single spot that Quinn had artfully marked. But Rachel didn't have time to bask in the lullaby that Quinn's hands played, her hair was done and it was time to go. In the silence she led the way down the stairs and into the car that would bring them to the competition. Suddenly Rachel was met with the sullen reality that maybe they wouldn't win the money after all. Maybe not everyone was meant to have a future. Maybe losing was a part of life she just had to accept.

* * *

The pair walked into the hotel side by side as the two Berry man marched behind them oddly triumphantly, but the girls attention's were not on Rachel's father's strange optimism. The hotel gleamed in gold and ornamented bright white lights, carefully decorated with fine china and luxuries. The marble floor and pillars all lead up to a chandelier that doomed above the pair, shining in a bright glory that made your eyes water just at the idea of looking directly at it. But even in the presence of the breathtaking room there was something else that still managed to steal the girls gaze – or more particular, someone else. Plenty of them. All around the room were dancing partners that had gathered for that very same competition. In dazzling magenta's and roaring canary's they practiced proudly for everyone to see. It seemed as if they'd just stepped out of the very show that the Berry's had lost all their money on. Not only were their costumes magnificently better than Rachel's and Quinn's humble blue dresses, and it wasn't even their obvious superior talent and dance routine that seemed to make Quinn's stomach knot and churn – it was primarily the horrifying fact that all of the pairs included a male and a female. The chance of redemption seemed to shrink further and further away with every step the girls took in their coats.

"Look at them, do you see them?" Rachel whistled into Quinn's ear as they continued their facade of a calm walk. All that Rachel heard in reply was a defeated 'shit'. From behind her Rachel could hear a similar commentary of worry coming from her fathers, followed by the hushed same word that only moments ago had left Quinn's lips. The sound of the tango and the flushing of the fountain in the centre of the room drowned out Rachel's ragged breathing, as well as the sound of Randy's laugh that had somehow managed to invade her stream of consciousness too. There was no hope for them.

The Berry's moved towards the free canapés. Rachel knew it was a bad sign. Whenever things got bad and her father's got nervous they would find their way to the free food – and whenever her parents were nervous, Rachel seemed to be contagious to the feeling too. As the music seemed to grow louder she could feel her heart begin to drum fiercely in her rib cage, which unfortunately was compressed tightly into a slender dress. As her eyes manically darted around the room she saw a woman ushering the dancer's up a flight of deliciously gold stairs. Quinn nodded as she registered what Rachel was thinking and it wasn't soon before they briefly parted with Rachel's fathers. The quiet and desperate 'good luck' that Hiram whispered into Rachel's ear rung in her mind as her and Quinn made their way as confidently as possible away from her dad's. Rachel registered the warm embrace of her hand in another's, realizing it had been there interlocked with Quinn's fingers for a while now.

"What's this?" She asked Quinn as they continued to walk, not fully looking at her as she asked. Still the girls hand remained in her own. It was a perfect fit.  
"I don't know I thought you were doing it" the blonde quickly defended.  
"Well I thought you were doing it." Rachel retorted, feeling Quinn begin to tug away. Before she could, Rachel tightened her hold in a reassuring squeeze that made Quinn look over to her quizzically. "Well we're doing the dance thing anyway" the brunette justified with a roll of her shoulders as the two of them climbed up the stairs they were told to go up.

* * *

As they got closer and closer to the room that held their fate, Rachel swore she could feel a change in Quinn. Maybe it was physically or perhaps just mentally – but there was something very different about the blonde to her side. It wasn't nervousness, it was desperate. It was the same desperate anger that had locked its way inside her the times that she needed Rachel more than she'd liked to have admitted. It made Rachel uneasy, but it was going to have to be another unanswered question as Quinn quickened the pace of their walk.  
"I want you to remember" the blonde blurted out quickly in that familiar angst ridden and pleading voice. "I want you to remember all the good stuff that we have here."  
"Of course I do" Rachel reasoned, hoping Quinn wouldn't fly into a fury just before their big moment.  
"Just checking" she snapped back, still not looking at Rachel. But the brunette didn't see reason to worry just yet since their hands still held each other. She swore she felt another squeeze from Quinn right after she spoke, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"I've got to go find my brother" Quinn excused as she flicked her eyes towards the desk at the end of the corridor they were on, prompting Rachel to go sign them both in. Rachel nodded understandingly and unwillingly returned her hand to the loneliness of her coat pocket and made her way to the women seated behind the royal blue desk with the clipboards. As Rachel filled out all the necessary information something else besides the captivating brunette snatched Quinn's attention. The blonde felt all the air in her lungs deflate in one heaping moment of catastrophe as from the balcony of the corridor she could see down in the forum not only Santana and her brother entering the hotel – but Finn by their side. The giant followed them with a pleasant smile in his formal suit and tie and Quinn could feel every nerve ending in her body snap with a pinch of pain.  
"_Finn?_" She breathed almost inaudibly to herself as she could feel her face drop and her heart climb its way up her throat. This was it, it was all over now. "_Oh jesus_" she cursed in blank horror as she remained frozen to the spot. Her eyes stung as tears threatened to burn through them – forcing her to move away and make her way out of the corridor. She took a painful jagged breath before she was met with Carl and Santana, only a few meters out of sight from the clueless Rachel.

"_What the fuck_" Quinn quietly hissed through tight lips, venom poisoning each and every syllable as she glared into the eyes of her brother and then at Santana's. Instantly the couple realised the situation and Santana's grip onto Carl's arm tightened.  
"Quinnie, Q – please, calm down" her brother reasoned in attempt to hush the fuming blonde who psychotically stared at them whilst simultaneously nervously breaking down. Carl brought his hand up in an attempt to calm her but she ignored it as if it wasn't there. Her eyes dismissed the worried Santana and pierced through Carl's with a look of pure betrayal and anger.  
"_You're killing me_" Quinn hissed again, the pain evident in her tear filled eyes and tensed posture – every inch of her demonstrated the agonizing torture that she was in.  
"Quinn, please" her brother began in his usual calm and mannered voice. If there was a solution, Carl the douche always seemed to think he had the answer. Quinn's parents had always agreed. To Quinn's disappointment, Carl continued. "He'll see how well she's doing and maybe he'll lift the restraining order" Carl declared as if it was the most obvious solution available. Santana nodded in agreement as Quinn remained staring at them with deceitful confusion at what he just said, a trail of fragile 'oh my god's' whispering their way out of her lips. She was breaking.  
"Rachel told me that you should never throw a potential marriage out the window" Santana butted in, looking from Carl back to Quinn.  
"She did not say that!" Quinn refused as she felt the potential tears begin to choke her up. "She didn't say that" she repeated, almost begging herself to believe her own words.  
"She said it several times, Quinn." Santana responded plainly. "This is her chance; you have to give her that last chance."  
But Quinn wasn't giving anyone another chance. Without another word she fired out of their way and stormed right past them into the only other room that seemed fit to enter. The official ballroom. With a stage in the middle and spectators all around it seemed only fit to hold the biggest dancing competition of Ohio. As the blue toned lights beamed the audience cheered for the practicing couples that danced on the centre square stage. The judging panel was equally close by directly in front of the stage. As the practice tango music roared it seemed as if those less interested by the dancing were enjoying the drinks available at the luxurious bars at either side of the room too. All men seemed to be dappered into their best tux and all women decided to take this as a chance to show a little more skin – but as she made her way through the edge of the room through the crowds there wasn't one male eye that didn't glide their gaze Quinn's way, even in her simple black trench. Anger boiled through her veins as she balled her hands into tight fists, as if Rachel's had never been there only moments ago. She was destroyed. As she marched through the music and dancers she managed to take a breath, and with it attempt to mask every pained emotion that had just hit her like a truck. She walked, she breathed, she wiped her cheek and she bottled every ounce of emotion up denying it access to the surface, an almost evil gaze replacing the once childish eyes. Quickly she snatched an open bar seat of the busy area and patted her hand down desperately onto the bar surface as she called out for the bartender.  
"Bartender" she repeated again, regaining herself from her light headed trance. "Can I get a vodka?" Quinn blurted out as, unknowingly to her, a nervous Rachel looked around and entered the ballroom solo – her eyes only searching for her blonde.

A tall and slim man with fine blonde hair sipped his drink as he marveled in Quinn's effortless sip of half a glass of straight vodka – no ID needed and not even a hint of a flinch as the alcohol poured down her throat. His approving eyebrows rose as she turned away and watched out towards the dance floor, noting the completion had begun. Quinn heard him ask if she wanted another drink and she could feel his eyes stare at her filled with desire, but without giving him a single look she simply said yes and continued to watch the dancers. Subconsciously not looking at them at all, but instead for a certain brunette – even though her current anger wouldn't let her admit it.

* * *

Rachel fumbled through the crowds as the loud music attacked her ears. It was okay now, mostly because there wasn't an alternative – but still it was okay. Quinn had made it okay, or more so – she let Rachel see it that music wasn't the enemy. Quinn had made her realize that she didn't need fixing, she just needed to be who she was and music was a part of that. Rachel weaved her way in and out of the socializing spectators as she tried to find Quinn, a slight feeling of worry pecking at her the longer they were apart. She just had to find Quinn. As she continued to scan the room urgently, her eyes landed onto a very different sight opposite the room to her across the dance platform. There, sat on one of the tables, Santana and Quinn's brother marveled at the dancers whilst someone else flanked Santana's side.

The corners of Rachel's mouth tugged into a smile as across the dance floor Finn's did the same.

It was the beginning of the end.

* * *

PS. What has happened to the once fiery Santana Lopez I hear you cry? Don't worry, though not a main character she'll get a little lime light soon enough as well as happiness.


	14. Competition Part II

The salsa music swarmed around the room in a hot blaze, swallowing the spectators entirely. It seemed like even the people that didn't want to be there, which made up a worrying percentage, couldn't keep their eyes off the dance partners taking center stage. They were elegant, glistening , talented. Every move demonstrated a mixture of good genes, strong will power and hours of practice. Even the proud parents who only wanted their family to win couldn't help but smile as the man in the sequined tux twirled the graceful girl in red or green or blue around in circles. Everyone was hooked on each perfected twist and turn, everyone except Quinn and Rachel.

As the ambient lighting fired the room into a misty warm glow, Quinn Fabray was starting to see all the colors merge into one glorious smudge. Across the room from her, right in front of the stage, sat the judges. Allocated along the long velvet red table they tapped their pens approvingly and watched curiously. The first judge was an old man with a furrowed brow, a heavy pair of caterpillars that notoriously jived when he was enjoying the performance. The second judge fell into the previous category of wishing she was anywhere but here. She was a beauty queen, or something like that. She was an empty vessel of a past career that boasted titles for her smile and her desire to have world peace – which left her with a contract that meant showing up to events like these in Ohio. On the odd occasion she approved of a couple (usually thanks to a little muscle showing on the male's account) she'd flash her prosthetic pearly whites in a gleam for all to see. The lady next to her looked like she could be her mother, and by her miserable expression she was very much aware of the fact too. She didn't have a tell, and what more – she was a famously tough judge. Verna was probably the only one on that panel that actually knew a foxtrot from a waltz, and she definitely didn't mind pointing out the tiniest of footwork errors. And the guy next to her, well it seemed as if no one would mind if he wasn't even there. The only bonus was his slick backed jet-black hair and blow tie, like the beauty queen he didn't mind a little male skin either.

"So what do you do?" Quinn tempted the man next to her through her dark lashes. He didn't seem very interesting, but he sure seemed interested. That was enough for her in that moment. That and his expensive wallet which was funding a streamline of alcohol through her angered lips.

"I'm a lawyer" he declared in a smooth smug tone to the unimpressed Quinn. "A litigator actually"

"The arguing guy" she noted, her eyebrows lifting simultaneously as she took another sip from her drink. He laughed. They always laughed. From across the room Verna gave one of the best couples an insulting six, bringing them to a seven in total. The next pair stared up as the tango music started playing, matching eloquently to her peach orange dress.

Across the room, and what felt like light years away, Rachel scuttled to take a seat by her dads as the dance began. LeRoy's face lit up as he saw his girl in all her glory, glowing blue against the dark lighting, only her eyes shining out in a midst of worry. LeRoy's smile fell.

"Where's Quinn?"

"I don't know dad" Rachel confessed through tight lips. It felt worse saying it, admitting that she wasn't there. It made everything more real. "Have you seen her?"

"You got to find her!" Hiram butted in, his attention being snapped away only briefly from the flamingo like creature center stage. His mind was torn between enjoying the show and accepting defeat and a life of a debt.

"I know that." She said agitatedly, unable to sit still without her blonde by her side. "I'm gonna go look for her" Rachel declared before setting off back into the storm of the center ballroom.

She marched and paced around the room on a mission, nothing else mattering except the one goal of finding Quinn Fabray. As her eyes scanned every individual possible and her tiptoes felt like they'd crunch under her weight through the struggle of stretching up, she finally saw her. There, sat on a bar seat as nonchalant as possible, was Quinn. Drink in hand. Man by her side. Rachel froze as if a wave of ice hit her, but picking up the pieces she found enough fire within to melt away that ice and get what was rightfully hers. Her lips tightened into a stern line as she moved her away towards the laughter that spiraled out of the girls mouth, nearly as fake as the hair on that judge. The music continued to pester into Rachel's trail of thought, only being blocked out by her mind working on overdrive.

"Hey?" Rachel announced, turning Quinn's shoulder away from her conversation and towards her own disappointed expression. "What are you doing?" she asked almost bewildered.

"Look, she's fine" the lawyer felt the need to butt in as Quinn stared blankly at Rachel and back at the stranger.

"Oh you think she's _fine_?" Rachel rhetorically asked, looking at the intoxicated Quinn for emphasis. The man just stared with a confused smirk and Rachel shot him a look of disgust. "Why don't you just shut up, okay?" she ordered before he could add another word. Then she turned to Quinn. "How many drinks have you had?"

"I've had two vodkas"

"Listen, I don't know what choices you've made but we have to deal with this right now." She explained to the blonde bluntly and precisely, ignoring the hint of anger she could see playing up behind those hazel eyes. If Quinn wanted to have a temper tantrum, Rachel decided she could do that another time when the one thing she's always wanted wasn't on the line. "We're in this."

"We're in _what_?

And before Rachel could say all the things she wanted to, she heard the one thing she couldn't bear to. Her name. The presenter called it out followed by Quinn's with such enthusiasm that it was hard for Rachel to remember that this was the make or break moment of everything. She hated having her name called out in front of that big audience. She hated the memories that it brought back with it and the expectations of a performance. She hated the possibility of failure and never being able to capture and change that moment again. And most of all she hated that Quinn Fabray wasn't in it with her in the moment she needed her most, which ironically was the exact moment that Quinn needed her the most too. Rachel took control of the situation and released a slow breath.

"You know I used to think you were the best thing that's ever happened to me." Quinn said in a silky voice, pulling Rachel's attention back to her and the bar stool. But before Rachel could acknowledge that light headed feeling, that pounding in her chest, that pull towards the girl inches before her – she spoke again. "But now I'm starting to think that you're the worst – and, I'm sorry that I ever met you" Quinn added in a spiteful confession. And before Rachel's heart could even take off, it already crashed. But it couldn't, not in that moment. Not for her own sake, and definitely not for Quinn's.

"Good for you" Rachel shrugged before gripping onto the girls arm. "Now lets dance."

The dance floor began to simmer down from the roar of the previous performance. Whispers of dismay flooded the room from the last scores, a humble eight considering the dancers perfection. To one side the Berry's clasped their hands together in anticipation as Randy stuffed a plump complimentary olive into his mouth. On the other side of the room Santana gave an apprehensive tug of a smile to her husband and then to Finn. And in the middle of the slowly hushing room Rachel Berry yanked her partner onto the stage as she slipped her own coat off before removing Quinn's. She protested that she was fine and she could do it herself, but there was no denying that Quinn was anything but fine. Immediately as the two of them stood there in their matching outfits the murmurs began. Slowly but surely everyone in the room found an opinion on the fact that two girls stood before them, even before they started dancing. The heavy brows of judge 1 lifted, the puckered lips of judge 2 tensed, the glasses of judge 3 threatened to slip off the very end of her crooked nose – whilst judge 4 smiled for the first time since the topless waltzer.

The truth was they weren't good. And they knew it. They were okay, but okay compared to the rest of the group that was good just made them see even worse than they were. The judging panel was tough and Quinn was drunk. The Berry's were watching, Finn was watching, the entire room was watching. All they needed was a five. A holy five would mean it was all okay. Rachel felt a streamline of nerves electrify her entire body as she stared at Quinn's glazy eyes before looking out to the audience – but she couldn't see anything. That's what people forget about the stage, the fact that you're up there all alone. You're swallowed in black thanks to the spotlight – but just like sharks, you know they're out there. Somewhere close by you're fully aware that everyone is watching you. You see a glimmer here or there of watchful eyes, but if you focus too long you loose your steps and you might as well be out there with the sharks. They can smell fear – mess up, and you draw blood. Rachel took her position opposite Quinn as a shaky breath managed to fill her lungs, but even it wanted to escape from this titanic scale disaster.

Rachel stared at Quinn's eyes with a panicked urgency that threatened to expose her fear, but this time it was Quinn who balanced the crazy in them. She just nudged her head to the side, and with the motion most of Rachel's anxiety went too. She wanted Quinn to do something more, she wanted more of Quinn to make her feel alright. Quinn was her placebo effect, she was her happiness – and it took this paper thin moment for Rachel to finally accept it with every inch of her being. Frankly, there wasn't much use denying it.

But it was too late. The music had begun.

The familiar chachacha music filled the room. It was smooth and it was mellow, and it worked with the gentle twists and movements of the girl's slender waists as they pushed and tugged every dance move that they'd learnt. It was good, there weren't any mistakes and they looked great – they _felt _great. As the chachacha music slurred and Quinn spun Rachel for the last time, the brunette was sure that her partner was about to bring those two vodkas right back up – but she didn't. And then the chachacha finished, but the dance had just begun. With an ecstatic shock the entire room shone a bright flashing light of orange as the music suddenly changed with a roar to the clash. Loud, powerful, abrupt – just like the moves that followed this part of their dance. Wild hair flicking and eighties head nods filled the room with a much needed light hearted spirit and foot tapping rhythm – all whilst the pair of them on stage dorked themselves out with bright smiles. They were actually having fun. It was as if it was just the two of them again in that petal pink room. As they jumped and increased proximity there wasn't a single pair of eyes that weren't on the two of them. The chemistry was obvious and the heat between them was contagious. Hip on hip, hand on hand, they electrified the room with something that was missing from the evening. As their soft ballet shoes tapped against the hard wooden floor and Rachel's legs wrapped around Quinn's in one of their more intense moves, the music once again washed over to the next song – just in time for Rachel to find herself pressed against Quinn's chest in an ballerina worthy hold. A jazz waltz danced onto the playlist accompanied with swoons of elegant hand gestures and swift gliding feet, the two girls never leaving each other's touch as their eyes remained locked with one another's. Separating briefly they tap-danced the short routine that they'd practiced to a pinch. Their feet making the same sounds at the same time causing them to proudly grin up at each other as a soft applaud of approval wavered through the audience. Back into the waltz they found the moment growing closer and closer – the final big move. It was there, it was the cherry on top, it was the thing that would make them get the scores – essentially getting everything. They parted as they made their ways to the opposite corners of the stage, the music continuing to pace them for the huge finale. Quinn crouched down onto her knee as she'd practiced, giving a reassuring nod to Rachel who was about to run from the other side. The entire audience held their breath as a silence engulfed them all in locked anticipation. Heart pounding heavy in her chest, Rachel ran. Rachel leapt. And Rachel failed. There she sat, straddling young miss Quinn Fabray who was struggling to keep her up –whilst the entire audience couldn't help but let out shocked gasps of both woe and awkwardness. As Quinn continued to fumble desperately to get a panicking Rachel down, the judges whispered to one another as they watched the brunette's hips suffocate Quinn's face. Finally with an exasperated and painful to watch struggle, Rachel found her feet on the floor as Quinn searched for her breath. LeRoy's palms met his face as he looked away into Hiram's coat. Santana's red lips winced into both amusement and sadness, and maybe just a little bit of indulging improvement. The music tauntingly continued to blaze as the two of them finished off the dance in a wave of embarrassment. Finally Rachel tipped Quinn back and held her as the music drew to a close and the lights went down.

When they went up again so did the audience to everyone's surprise. Applause met Rachel like an old friend as the room clapped in approval of the first all female performance that this completion ever saw. The Berry's proudly stood and hooted, accepting defeat. Santana whistled, even to Carl's disapproving frown of her volume. And Finn looked proudly content, even if Rachel couldn't exactly see him. The judges were harder to read.

But the girls weren't looking at their family, or the judges, or at anyone else in that room. Because it still felt like their pink room. It still felt like just the two of them. And what more, it felt right – it felt like something they'd never want to change. They gave each other a look of support as they interlocked their fingers and walked to stand before the judges, their hearts still racing with every emotion possible. Their friends and families came to stand closer to them too, something that made Rachel realize this dance wasn't only just for Quinn – no matter how much she wished it was. It wasn't just for her parents either though, it was also for herself. It was the ceremony she needed back to being able to perform.

But there wasn't anytime for Rachel to think because the judges were shuffling their cards already. The presenter called out that it was time to see the scores, and the ambient music that the small orchestra decided to play seemed very out of place. Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand just that little bit tighter.

It was the old man first, with a 4.9. That was fine, sure it wasn't a five but it was hardly off it – and most of all, it was still possible to get a five. It was still possible to be okay. An uncomfortable snigger of laughter surrounded them as the more competitive and professional competitors and audience members mocked the low score. Blondie was next, and clearly starting to question her own sexuality by the look of utter delight during the crotch extravaganza – she went with a safe bet of a 4.9, exactly what the person before her gave. The woman was next, she was the toughest one – surely it meant that it had to get better after her? It was a 4.8. Rachel hitched her breath and Quinn felt it in herself too causing the same reaction. This was it – the last score that could save them or kill them. The tango dancers next to Rachel and Quinn gave them pitying looks.

"It's too bad you guys" the girl in the aqua dress said, a look of sympathy smothering her face "that's a lot of fours…"

But Rachel and Quinn ignored her, because there was still one last judge. There was still hope. And hope came in the form of a shining 5.4 from the best smile on the panel.

"For an average score of…" The presenter teased, though uninterested considering they were the runts of the competition. "5.0"

The audience cooed a mixture of apologetic wishes and the other competitors came closer to give their condolences, but they were met with a very different response to what everyone expected. A roar of happiness. An explosion of pure joy. Two girls screaming and jumping as if they'd just won the lottery – but of course they'd won something much better. As they celebrated with their arms in the air, the whole room and judges stared in confusion at the reaction to the lowest scores of the entire completion. Hiram hugged Rachel, LeRoy hugged Quinn, they swapped and then they did the same with Carl and Santana. Randy complained, everyone else remained confused, and Rachel and Quinn continued to jump with a new found ecstatic energy. They'd done it. All the practice had paid off.

Rachel turned to Quinn and felt the familiar rush after a good performance, tears threatening to meet her eyes. The blonde ran over and wrapped her arms around her as she yanked her into a tight hug, her face nuzzling into the warmth of Rachel's tied back lock of hair.

"Thank you" Quinn whispered in a muffled confession. "Thank you, you were amazing" the blonde continued. But this time Rachel was looking at someone other than the girl locked in her arms. She knew what she had to do. Rachel wiggled her way out of Quinn's touch without a single look, leaving the girl in the crowd of happiness as she made her way across some tables at the man in the suit standing alone. That very man in a suit that long ago wanted to marry her. Quinn watched her leave and never tore her eyes away for a single moment. The moment felt forever and every step that Rachel took away from her and closer to him killed Quinn in every way possible. Quinn watched them meet, even though it pained her. She watched them politely great as if nothing had happened over the years. She watched as he bent down and kissed her cheek as if she might as well have been his girlfriend. She watched even though it hurt more than anything had hurt her in her entire life. She was loosing someone she never even had. But she couldn't look away.

"Thanks for coming" Rachel said with a nod and a smile as Finn exchanged the same expression.

"The performance was awesome. How have you been?"

"I've been good, and you?"

"Same, thanks. You were really good out there" He added with a simple shrug and that same darn polite smile, Rachel wore it too. It was empty.

"Thank you. Who would've thought…dancing." She rolled her eyes and he laughed a little as anyone should have. Quinn continued to watch as parts of her shredded away with each little smile that they shared. She couldn't hear what they were saying but part of her thought that was for the best. It would hurt too much, not that letting her mind imagine the romantic conversation didn't.

"You look fantastic, Rachel"

"Really? Thanks." Rachel added without a single nerve, looking down at her dress before back at him. "I've been reading up on hockey too, by the way. Actually I've been trying out this whole new positive attitude in general. I'm in therapy too, and I'm taking my medication." A few encouraging nods followed through her dark lashes.

"Wow, Rachel-" Before Finn could say another word Rachel stood on her tiptoes and diminished any distance between them. And that's when Quinn snapped. She stood there watching as Rachel came closer to him, whispering god knows what with what Quinn imagined was some ridiculously unnecessarily seductive face. Quinn hated the way that Rachel could do that – even when she was mad. The brunette could arch her brows and pucker her lips and she'd get that cute little frown line and – Quinn halted as she squeezed her eyes shut. It was too much this time, it was too much to watch the girl you'd fallen in love with go back to the guy she loved. Especially when in someway or another you played in a part in all of it. That stupid letter haunted Quinn's trembling heart.

Quinn grabbed her coat from the stage side and bolted out, refusing to cry and only leaving Santana, LeRoy and Hiram staring longingly after her just as they'd watched her see Finn and Rachel. They could all see it, the way that Quinn had looked at them two – and when they thought about it, it was the way that Quinn had always looked at Rachel. That same hidden proud admiration that often disagreed with the venomous words that left her lips. LeRoy was about to go after her but he stopped, his attention going back to his daughter who was now coming this way away from Finn, just as Quinn fled the ballroom and the hotel just as swiftly as she'd come into Rachel's life in the beginning.

"Dad, where's Quinn?" Rachel quickly asked Hiram as she returned to the group to find that her blonde was nowhere to be found. Behind her Finn remained standing and watching her with a longing that no one had ever seen before, but it was only a slither compared to a similar expression they'd just seen on Quinn.

"She left, Rach-"  
"What do you mean she left?" Rachel abruptly asked, only to have Hiram repeat the same thing. "Where did she go?" the brunette continued with an increased sense of urgency. But before Rachel was about to run after her, Hiram put a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Wait Rachel, let me tell you something – and I know you don't want to hear it, and I know you don't want to listen to your old man because I didn't want to listen to mine but here's the thing. In life, we have to look out for the signs. And a moment like this? It's a sin if you don't reach and grab it, Rachel." Hiram put both his hands on her this time and Rachel had never seen him like this, so desperately wanting her to do something. "You're facing a big challenge in your life right here, sweetheart, right here in this moment and right now. Forget about the labels, forget about what you think you knew about yourself, you're young and that girl? That girl loves you, she really _really _loves you – and I don't know if Finn ever did, but he sure as hell doesn't now and not like that, he never did and never would. And I'm telling you Rachel, don't let this moment haunt you for the rest of your life."

Rachel didn't say anything back, because for once her dad had told her something she already knew. Everything she already knew, but was too scared to admit. It was Quinn that was the music she was too afraid to hear. Quinn was that something that made life worth living, even if facing up to it meant risking it in the first place. Rachel pulled him into a hug and he held her for a moment, but it wasn't a moment too long – because they both knew she was running out of time.

"I love you, dad" She whispered before she ran to find the girl that she had fallen in love with.

And quite literally, fallen.


	15. Be Mine

The penultimate chapter in this Faberry tale. As always - enjoy. x

* * *

Quinn stalled through the dark Lima streets as a stranger. The central part of the city was different from the rest, or at least different to the parts she called home. Somehow on the streets with identical houses she didn't feel so isolated, but the low lit downtown streets of the only touristy place in town seemed to make it unavoidably clear to her. Quinn was alone. She'd always been alone, except for when she was with Rachel – something that she had to convince herself was temporary and untrue. She was alone in life and everything she chose to do in it, and that's how it would have to be forever. She'd played her part in Rachel's life and maybe even gotten her back with Finn – couldn't she just be happy for her brunette and let her go? Quinn knew the answer to that question, and it was a simple no. As if it wasn't hard enough to even imagine Rachel with someone else – the thought of that someone else being Finn sent a wave of anger through her. Finn didn't deserve her. Finn wanted her changed and fixed and thought she was broken, but the only broken part of her was actually him. Deep down Quinn knew that if it was someone else that Rachel loved, someone who loved her back just as passionately, then she would let her go – she'd let her be happy. But Quinn couldn't lie and pretend that she thought Rachel stood a chance of happiness with Finn, so she accepted the fact she'd have to live the rest of her life knowing that with one stupid letter she ignorantly brought them back together. Quinn always felt like she killed Sammy, and now she felt like adding Rachel to that list of victims too.

She was a girl that never knew what she wanted; only what she didn't want. She knew she didn't want to go to college and be normal, but didn't even really understand what normal was. Quinn didn't believe normal meant happiness, and her life was definitely anything but normal – but it was also miserable. Maybe it wasn't whether your life was normal that decided your happiness; perhaps it was just the way you chose to see it. Quinn had seen life in a lot of ways, but her favourite one was through Rachel's shade. She could try to convince herself that maybe Rachel's way of thinking just made life seem better, but it was inevitable that it was actually genuinely better – and that was due to that little brunette herself. And now Quinn finally found what she wanted, only to know that she couldn't have it. She wanted Rachel. She wanted them. She wanted to argue with her and dance with her. She wanted to listen to her sing and attack her under the covers and make breakfast with her and be in love. But Quinn didn't think she deserved love, and she definitely didn't think she deserved Rachel. Quinn was finally okay with herself as a person, but sometimes that wasn't enough. She wanted to be okay with someone else too, and Rachel was her someone else.

The wind crashed into Quinn's face as she wrapped her arms around herself and quickened her pace just a little. She felt like crying, but the tears just didn't form. She wondered if that could be because she was over reacting and her body was sending her a wake-up call to toughen up. But she also wondered if maybe tears didn't belong right then because they weren't enough. They wouldn't change anything, they wouldn't take back the letter, and they sure as hell wouldn't give Quinn another chance to get it right with Rachel. But the blonde was stubborn, and so were her tears, causing her to carry on marching home completely unaware of a brunette rushing to put her coat on and grab her purse and stop her in her tracks only a few blocks behind her. That was until she heard her name.

Piercing through the darkness Quinn heard Rachel call out for her from behind, but she didn't stop, not this time. She didn't want to hear about how proud Finn was of her or even listen to her thank her for bringing him back to her. Quinn didn't want to hear it because she knew this time she couldn't take it. This time the tears would be right at home. Relentlessly she found herself picking up her pace into a jog, just like she had every morning that her and Rachel spent together. And just like those mornings she heard another pair of feet behind her. They definitely belonged to Rachel, but there was something different about them too. They were faster, stronger, braver. Quinn felt a hand grab her in the darkness and she nearly trembled as she yanked away.

"Would you just leave me alone!?" she begged in a winced cry of pain, suddenly feeling her cheeks grow damp as the tears streamed down. That's all it took, to see Rachel right there in front of her but know that she wasn't hers – and she never would be. But Rachel didn't let go. "_Please_?"

"Just wait a second" Rachel said smoothly as the two of them slowly caught their breath. "I just have one more letter for you to read, okay?" she said as she removed the slip of folded white paper from inside her purse. Quinn was not amused.

"What the hell is the matter with you!?" she protested with utter outrage, angrily wiping at her face to destroy any evidence. Having Rachel see her like this was the last thing she wanted in that moment. "Just give it to him yourself" Quinn hissed as the letter remained right in front of her. She didn't know why Rachel was doing this to her. She was simply turning the knife. Maybe that's what she deserved for faking the letter from Finn, maybe Rachel really did hate her.

"Just let me say something" Rachel instructed before Quinn could blubber out another insult. "You don't ever have to see me again if you just read this letter, alright?" the brunette told her still clasping the letter with a deep sense of calm. Quinn's hazel eyes darted from it to Rachel in a sense of betrayal. But there was no way out of it for her, and Rachel's offer was masochistically tempting. Rachel and Finn would go away and have lots of disproportioned babies and Quinn would never have to see her again just like she said. Maybe that was the only solution she could handle. She grabbed the letter from the girl's hands and unravelled it.

"This is so fucked up" Quinn protested under her breath, her hands slightly shaking as they held the letter. She knew what it was going to say. She knew that it was just going to be another stupid declaration of love to a jerk that didn't deserve her. She already knew how it would start, just like the previous one, that same ridiculous 'Dear Finn'. There was nothing dear about him in Quinn's eyes.

"Yes. Just read it" Rachel repeated as she watched her, almost expressionless with just a hint of remorse.

"Dear Quinn" Quinn read out as if it was nothing. And then it hit her like a lightning bolt. She didn't say his name, she said her own – and she said it because it was written there right in front of her in Rachel's stupidly neat handwriting. But she read it again just in case her eyes had deceived her. Then Quinn scanned it once more, every single letter really did belong to her name – her breath hitched. Hesitantly she looked from the paper to Rachel with disbelief engraved in her expression – but Rachel was silent. Rachel was smiling.  
Quinn unwillingly tore her eyes from Rachel and continued a little quieter. "I know you wrote the letter-" the blonde stopped and looked back at the other girl with a deep sense of guilt – but Rachel just remained watching her with the same brave expression. She wanted to apologise to Rachel, but she couldn't really form the words, especially considering she hadn't finished the letter. Quinn took another breath and continued. "The only way you could-"

"Meet my crazy is by doing something crazy yourself" Rachel continued for her, her brown eyes never leaving Quinn's as she recited the letter she knew off by heart. "Thank you" Rachel added, just as the letter said. But she wasn't finished yet. She looked up at Quinn in the darkness and took it in for a moment. She didn't want to waste a second of this, a second of Quinn. She wanted to remember how her wild blonde hair had stuck to her cheeks as they clung to the places her tears had fallen. She wanted to cherish the way her eyes looked emerald green through the sharpness of the tears that finally washed away everything she had ever tried to be. She wanted to keep Quinn to herself because they were each others. And so Rachel said the next sentence on that page, the one that she'd wanted to write ever since that ridiculous dinner at Santana's house. "I love you" she told her, annunciating each syllable with both clarity and confidence. It was the most truthful thing she'd said in her entire life.

Quinn's mouth turned into a sad smile as Rachel continued.

"I knew it the moment that I met you. I'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up – I just got stuck. Rachel" Rachel finished as Quinn blinked through the darkness at her lost for words as her heart heaved under her black trench coat. A silence fell between the two of them."I wrote that a week ago, Quinn."

"You wrote that a week ago?" Quinn managed, her voice only trembling a little and finally regaining its strength. "When we were still practicing for the dance?"

"Yes I did" Rachel said boldly. But Quinn's reaction, as always, was not what she expected.

"You let me lie to you for a _week_?" the blonde complained with a hint of insult and Rachel's lips warmed up to a smile just by seeing her like that. Quinn had a fire inside of her that no amount of tears could put out.

"Yes I did" she admitted. "I was trying to be romantic." Rachel admitted bashfully with a crooked smirk.

Quinn looked away as she took in a deep breath, refusing to let the tears come back. But Rachel didn't leave her side, she just watched her in the same way she always had. This time she was just brave enough to tell Quinn what her eyes had always said.

"You...love me?" Quinn softly and unsurely asked, hesitance thick in her voice as she looked back at Rachel.

"Yeah, I do" Rachel confirmed, knowing that she'd never stop telling Quinn that sentence if that's what it would take for her to believe it. A warm smile drew its way across Rachel's lips as Quinn nodded, letting herself belief it with an almost silent 'okay'. And then her lips spoke for themselves. With a leap of faith Quinn brought herself closer to Rachel, softly meeting her lips with her. Rachel smiled into the kiss as she drew her hand up to Quinn's face to tuck those wild strands away and pull her sweetly in to her touch. The familiar scent of one another's light perfume intermingled between fragile breaths. Briefly Quinn drew back to smile back at Rachel through her once tear stained eyes, a barely audible chuckle escaping her lips as Rachel tugged her back and crushed her lips to hers as they locked. Rachel hung her arms around Quinn's neck as her blonde ruffled hair tickled the back of her own hands. Quinn held Rachel's back in a gently passionate grasp, pressing her closer to herself, the letter scrunching up between the two of them as the rest of Lima seemed to melt away in the darkness. That moment was theirs. All the moments were – the running, the dance room, the diner. There were only a few things that made sense to both Quinn and Rachel, and one of those was the two of them. No one could take it away from them, not even Finn Hudson. All that Finn got was Rachel whispering to him an apology for trying to kill him and then wishing him the best followed by an unemotional goodbye. That was all Finn had, regardless if he wanted more. Rachel could've had him, but she never really wanted that – not truthfully. That was it, Rachel wasn't sure when she stopped loving Finn but the fact she had was abruptly clear, just as the fact that it had happened long before she even came to the hospital. Finn was an idea, a goal, a mission she could focus on as she was driven by the idea that she needed to be fixed. But maybe it was just the part of her that had the idea that needed to go, leaving the real Rachel to finally be happy. Quinn was a reality, a dreamlike reality that Rachel wanted to sleep in forever. She was there in her arms and on her lips and in her heart.

And Rachel never wanted her to leave.


End file.
